The Hand That Writes This Letter
by buddhistbabe
Summary: Takes place several weeks after Newt leaves New York, in the Movie Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. What happens after Newt leaves but before he returns with his book for Tina? Letters exchanged from across the sea, which bring two and then four people much closer together. TinaXNewt, QueenieXJacob Back after hiatus! (1/01/2018)
1. Chapter 1

The title of this story taken from Aracelis Girmay's peom 'Consider The Hand That Writes This letter'

I do NOT own the characters or rights to 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them'

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December 10th, 1926

Miss. Porpentina Goldstein,

I hope my letter finds you well. I have recently arrived back in London and I am, almost regretfully, settling back into my desk at the Ministry of Magic. It does seem like a shame to waste a day behind a desk when so much else could be done.

My creatures are finally starting to settle in after the travels. While the undetectable extension charm does wonders on a simple, charms re-enforced suitcase, they do seem to do much better at home. I have turned the attic of my flat into a temporary miniature zoo while I work on expanding and reinforcing my current suitcase. I would hate to have another escape like we had in New York last month. This new scenery affords my friends a bit more spacious accommodations. Except for my incorrigible Niffler, he stays on a very close watch. As long as the extra security spells hold, and my landlord stays out of the attic they should be fine there temporarily.

I am sitting down with my editors in the next few days to discuss the tone and nature of my book. Now comes the slightly-less exciting part of arranging all the materials, instead of researching. Might you have a suggestion or two on how to make years of research and note-taking more manageable?

Warm Regards,

Newt Scamander

P.S. Pickett insists I send his regards.

Tina folded the letter, and looked aimlessly out the window at the darken New York City sky. She felt conflicted by the letter she had received this afternoon. At first she was elated to receive a letter for Newt so soon after his departure. It had only been a few weeks. However, the content left her wanting more. The most frustrating part was that she didn't actually know what kind of content she would have wanted in the letter instead.

She turned her gaze back into the living room, where her sister Queenie was making supper. The sight of Queenie cooking was typically a comforting one. The usual humming or light conversations that took place during meals had been replace with silence. Losing Jacob had affected her sister more then she wanted to admit. Tina wanted to believe that the flirtations with Jacob had been a passing fancy. Jacob would have been more tempting to befriend to Queenie strictly because he was off-limits. However, as the days went on, Tina had to admit to herself, it wasn't that he was a no-maj that attracted her sister. It was the man himself. Holding in her sigh, she got up to set the table for her sister.

Only once the table had been set and the large pot of stew and basket of fresh bread had been placed in front of them did the sisters speak to one another.

"How was your day? Anything exciting happen?" Queenie asked Tina with a twinge of sadness in it.

Tina looked at her sister in surprise. 'Was Queenie even too depressed to probe her mind?' she thought to herself.

Queenie didn't look up from her own bowl. She debated on if she should tell Queenie. She didn't want to hurt her by reminding her of Jacob, however she thought news of Newt might cheer her up.

"What don't you know if you want to tell me?" Queenie said, finally lifting her head from her bowl. Tina could see that she had been crying.

Tina sighed and pulled her recently received letter out of her pocket and handed it over to her sister.

Queenie took the letter and read it silently. Her face breaking into a smile once she finished. Tina realized sadly that this smile was the first she had seen on her sister's face in weeks.

"Ohhh, Teenie, he wrote to you!" Queenie exclaimed, forgetting her own sadness. "Why do you look so disappointed?" she questioned honestly. "We didn't even know if he was going to write at all!"

"I don't know," Tina said disappointedly. "I'm happy I got a letter but I just didn't know what to expect in it and well…"

"Hum" Queenie thought out loud. "Well, Newt is a bit…odd, ya know, socially. I bet this is the very best he could write. If you think about it, he probably didn't know what to write, just like you didn't know what to expect."

Tina's face flushed. She felt so much gratitude and love towards her sister in the moment that she knew Queenie could hear her mind. Since she gave Tina a darling smile and started eating her soup happily.

"You are probably right." Tina stated, a new found conviction in her voice. "It would have been out of character to get a letter with proclamations of affection and poetry."

"Yeah, I don't Newt's a poetry kind of guy" Queenie added.

"He isn't." Tina interjected hastily. "Which is why, after dinner, I'll write him back."

"I think that is a smart idea" her sister smiled. "I mean, he asked you a direct question in his letter. I am sure he wants you to write back. You're probably just going to need to guide him in conversation a bit."

"Yeah, start small."

"Minuscule even." added Queenie slyly.

Tina nodded to herself, then as if suddenly remembering. "I'm sorry, I didn't even ask. How was your day Queenie?"

"Oh, it wasn't too exciting." Queenie smile loving at her dependable older sister and ate her stew happily, keeping a secret of her own.


	2. Chapter 2

December 15th, 1926

Greetings Mr. Newt Scamander,

Thank you for your recent letter. It was good to hear that both you, and your suitcase of beasts, have settled comfortable back in England. I want to strongly suggest putting a locking spell on your attic door so your landlord doesn't accidently let a wild Murtlap loose. The side effects looked terrible and sounded worse.

I hope you don't mind that I shared the content of your letter with Queenie, as she was also very happy to hear that things were going well for you.

Things in New York have become very hectic. At this time of year there always seems to be some kind of magical item ending up in the hands of a no-maj. This week we discovered that a magical soup ladle, of all things, ended up in a no-maj boarding house. This particular ladle would rap you on the back of the hands if you slurped your soup or made any impolite noises. Suffice it to say, it was a messy clean up. However, it does feel good to be back on the magical investigations team again. Again, I cannot thank you enough, Mr. Scamander, for the good word with Madam Picquery.

Other than the standard work about MACUSA, we are also working on holding Grindelwald in a secure enclosure. I am sure you will understand if I cannot say more on that subject.

Outside of work, life hasn't been the same at home since everything in November. Queenie is devastated about Jacob. I was hoping that she would get over him in a few weeks, however that doesn't seem to be the case. Maybe I underestimated Queenie, I thought her interest in Jacob was solely due to him being a no-maj. However, that doesn't seem to have been the case. I foolishly dismissed her true feelings, and it regret it deeply. She would probably curse me if she knew I was telling you this, but she didn't even bother to set her hair one day last week. I am deeply concerned.

As for Jacob, I don't know what he is up too. I know Madam Picquery originally wanted Jacob followed, however, I convinced her that we don't have the man-power right now to have someone trailing a no-maj whose memory was wiped. I think, after things slowdown in the New Year, that I will go out and try to find him myself. Just to see how he is doing, no contact, of course.

However it seems that the Swooping Evil venom has worked. I know a large scale test of New York City probably was not the way you wanted to test your hypothesis about its oblivation qualities. We occasionally have one or two reports of things that have cause a bit of confusion, people missing chucks of their day, or people placing items somewhere before the rain and then not being able to remember where they were after. I will keep you updated on this, if you would like me too, in future letters.

Also, I am honored that you asked for my input on how to structure your book. While I do not know much about the amount of content or the type of content you have, I think it would be wise to write your book more like an encyclopedia then a chapter book. I think the advantage of this approach is that it will make sorting the content easier, but it will also making adding new beasts to the books in the future easier. I think we both know you are not done finding and researching all the amazing creatures on this planet of ours. I think an additional benefit of the encyclopedia style is that it will make it more accessible for the standard witch or wizard. Someone might run across an Occamy but not have the time to read a whole chapter about, what was it you said they were? Choranaptyxic beast? So reading a section over a chapter would drastically help in time, or space, sensitive situations. Hopefully you will find my input is useful.

I hope that things are going well for you. Are you in good health? Do you have plans for the holiday season? How are all your fantastic creatures doing? I must admit I think of Dougal often. Of course, please let Pickett know how much I appreciated his regards.

Warm Regards,

Tina Goldstein.

p.s. Please give your Niffler the earring I included with this letter. I lost the other one on assignment several weeks ago. I rarely wear earrings, especially at work, for this very reason. It's just costume jewelry and not something valuable, but I figured, maybe he would like it. I am not sure what to send for anyone else in your magical zoo and I would hate to let them think I am playing favorites. Suggestions?

Newt lifted the small flower shaped, golden earring up to the light. It was delicate, not the dangle sort of earring he had seen other women wearing. This type of earring suited Tina, he thought to himself. It matched her practical side, which is something he liked about Tina. She didn't seem to judge books, people or beasts based on their covers. She appreciated the Swooping Evil for all it could do, she didn't shun it because of its appearance, or it's craving for brains.

He turned his eyes back to the letter. He was surprised and pleased at the length of the letter he had received from Tina. Newt knew he didn't deserve such a long and lovely letter in return to his own short letter. It had taken him over three weeks to finally write his first letter to her. Even while he was on his ship sailing back to England he had started to draft a letter in his head. He went through a least a dozen sheets of paper trying to write that first letter. In the end, he barely ended up with a whole page, while Tina had sent back a full two and a half pages of writing. However, he knew that once he finally sent that first letter out to her, she would make writing back so much easier.

On closer inspection Newt even thought that Tina's handwriting fit her. It was neat, orderly and surprisingly small. Not overly loopy, but not too stilted either. This must be because of the taking notes she does while on the job, Newt thought to himself. His own handwriting was, less delicate, to say the least. He had a bad habit of pausing his quill while writing and leaving ink blots over all his correspondences. His letter to Tina was one of his cleanest, because he didn't want her to think he was scatterbrained.

He had never been curious before what other people did at the Ministry of Magic. He was interested in magical creatures and the other departments that dealt with magical creatures. Yet, since Tina had been re-instated as an Auror he was curious about what specifically they did. In the few weeks he had been back he learned the Ministry's aurors had extensive training and that it could take several years to complete and that witch or wizard could still not being accepted by the Ministry. While he doubted the MACUSA auror training was that long, especially with how quickly Graves had become ingrained in MACUSA. He didn't doubt it for a moment that MACUSA's aurors weren't also very skilled witch or wizard. Tina had single handedly fought Grindelwald and held her own. Many have faced Grindelwald and not survived. The very thought made him uncomfortable. Secretly he would rather have her fighting ladles, but he knew that he could never say that to her.

Newt fidgeted with the earring in his hand while he reviewed the contents on the letter. He is discouraged to hear about Queenie, and curious about Jacob. So neither of the girls knew that he had interfered with the Occamy eggs. Technically he didn't know how much MACUSA might punish him for interfering, but he knew that they probably wouldn't take kindly to his actions. Actually, he was more worried how Tina might react if she knew he interfered in Jacob's life. He wished that MACUSA had better muggle relations. He sighed to himself, re-skimming the letter.

Tina's suggestion to make the book an encyclopedia was just what he needed to hear. He had been thinking about that himself, however, he didn't have the confidence to continue on that path after his publishers suggested a chapter style book. However, somehow knowing that Tina agreed with him gave in confidence. In the long run it was his book and what his publishers thought didn't matter.

He felt himself flush when he reread her comments on choranaptyxic. As silly as it might be for someone else, he was flattered the she had listened to and remember what he had said about Occamys. He was so used to people ignoring him or politely listening, but not ever really hearing him when he talked about his creatures.

He sighed holding up the earring again to the light. Funny how such a small item could cause him to pause. He knew it was for niffler however, maybe he would just hold on it for a bit longer. Newt dropped the earring into his vest breast pocket. Tonight he would find a safer place to keep it. He looked a Pickett, who had watched him pocket the earring curiously.

"That will be our little secret, my friend" Newt whispered to Pickett.

He was answered with a series of squeaks.

"Yes, she did send you her regards, Pickett. She said that appreciate your thoughts and was curious what kind of gift she could send you." He responded.

The Bowtruckle continued to squeak as Newt stood up for his desk. He set Tina's letter on his bedside table, looking at while Pickett continued to make noise. He sighed to himself, regretting ever mentioning Tina's letter to his little friend. With one last look at the letter he went up to the attic to check on his friends.


	3. Chapter 3

December 29th, 1926

Miss. Porpentina Goldstein,

First and foremost, please address me as Newt, instead of Mr. Scamander. I insist. We fought Grindelwald together, I think that alone should allow us a bit of informality.

Secondly, I want you to know that I put the strongest locking spell I could find on the attic door, so far there have been no escapes. Dougal, as always, has been trying to leave but I think that he became a bit spoiled in New York with all of his freedom.

Additionally, please forgive me on my delay in writing back to you. The holidays have been an unpredictably busy time of year for me. This time last year I was out in Africa searching for magical creatures so I missed all the family traditions. However, this year it was insisted that I participate. It is poorly timed with my work at the ministry picking up. Never have I missed field research as much as I did this past week.

I very much enjoyed your letter and read it several times, along with the several times I read it allowed to Dougal and Pickett. Both are very interested in how you are doing in New York. I must say, that it was very difficult for me to write my first letter to you, but your return letter has sparked so many questions and thoughts that I feel like I won't have enough pages to write back.

I am curious about the magical ladle story, and I hope you will tell me the whole story when I see you in New York next. As for the Swooping Evil venom, it's a comfort to know it's working. I'm glad being an auror is everything you hoped it would be. It's strange, I had never really wondered or thought much about the aurors here at the Ministry until meeting you. It seems like such a dangerous position, but of course, you have to be talented to have it. Also, if telling Madam Picquery the truth about how great you were was all it took to get your old job back, then I would be glad to help as often as needed.

I am sure this will sound very, motherly of me, but I hope that you are not on the team guarding Grindelwald. Not that you aren't capable and competent, because you are. Please do not take this the wrong way, as you are a very talented and smart witch, it's just I would sleep better knowing that you were a safe distance away from that man. I'm concerned at what he might do to you, if he saw you. You were a major part in his downfall after all and revenge is something I'm concerned about.

Speaking of Grindelwald, I had an interesting visitor to my office the other day. Albus Dumbledore, one of my former professors, stopped by the Ministry to see me. He made it seem like he was visiting in regards to my book, which once it's published he would like to make mandatory reading for the students at Hogwarts. However, he asked a number of question about Mr. Graves and our adventures in New York. I would not be surprised if he contacted you personally about your experiences with Mr. Graves. I hope I have not inconvenienced you by giving Professor Dumbledore your contact information. I am truly sorry if I have put you out.

I must say, I think it is a wonderful idea to write the book as an encyclopedia. Originally, I was interested in that but my publishing house warned against that, since it could be seen as lazy writing. However, with the arguments you put forth in your last letter, I took myself back to the publisher. I am happy to report back on the change of format of the book. It honestly been a breezy to work on since.

One good thing that came out of my visit to my parent's house over the holidays was that my brother convinced me to set up my beast encyclopedias up alphabetically. I had been thinking about setting it up by habitat or danger level. He normally doesn't take an interest in my work, however he said that most encyclopedias were alphabetical and why fix something if it's not broken. He suggested I use a key when talking about the beasts but that anything more the alphabetically to make it too complicated. It was truly a moment in our relationship.

As we are speaking about siblings, I'm also very sorry to hear about Queenie. I can understand how much she misses Jacob, he really is a truly good man. I knew he was different the first time he saw an Occamy hatch. Instead of being afraid, he was curious. However, he did believe that everything he was seeing for a while was all a dream. So, I'm not sure if that effected his reaction.

However, I do have something to confess. I do hope that you forgive me when you find out. I'm hesitant to say anything because, I don't want you to become angry with me. I gave Jacob six Occamy egg shells before I left for England. As you know, he needed collateral for the bank to give him is loan, and Occamy shells are solid silver. If all has gone to plan, Jacob should have his bakery loan, and possible a bakery by now.

Please forgive me. I know Americans have very strict rules on the relationships between magical and muggle people, but Jacob needed help. I took the opportunity. However, he didn't see me. We never spoke. I just used a switching spell and put the shells into his suitcase outside the canning factory. I am sorry if I betrayed your trust. However, Jacob is a rare breed of human and I just wanted him to lead the best life possible. I'm sorry if you are angry with me. I will sadly understand if you choose not to write back after this letter.

If I don't hear back from you, I want you to know I wish you all the best in the upcoming New Year. Please stay safe, and I think of you often.

Yours,

Newt Scamander.

P.S. Please do not feel obligated to send items for my creatures. I would hate to inconvenience you. However, Pickett has made it known that if you would be so kind as to send a twig or leaf from a Tulip Poplar tree, he would be in you debt. I have included two Fwooper feathers, one for you and one for Queenie. These feathers are known for hat decorations and they make very good quills. However I don't think American witches and wizards use quills. Additionally I have included for you a flyer of my upcoming book. I hope you will accept these simple gifts. Happy New Year.

"Teenie? What did Newt say?" Queenie asked cautiously. Tina looked up from her letter and stared into her eyes.

"What about Jacob?" Queenie asked quickly.

"Newt, he gave him the collateral for his bakery." Tina said quietly.

"HE DID?!" Queenie shrieked happily. "Oh Teenie! This is such great news!"

Tina watched her sister as she started to spin and dance around the living room.

"But Queenie, he broke the law." Tina said flatly, the disbelief in her voice. She put her head in her hands feeling defeated.

"How did he?" Queenie rushed over kneeling next to her sister. "He never told Jacob who he was, they never met face to face. Think of it as an anonymous donation! Wealthy people do that stuff all the time Teenie!"

"He gave him Occamy shells. Those are a class C non-tradable good. Trade of those shells encourages poaching."

"Teenie, it wasn't a trade. Jacob didn't know they were Occamy shells." She started to look crestfallen. "Why can't you just accept that Newt did something good for Jacob? Why is following the law so important right now?"

Tina rubbed her face, unable to answer her sister.

"Can I read your letter?" Queenie asked, softly.

Tina silently handed over the letter, which Queenie accepted, sitting down at the table to read.

Tina was left with her thoughts. She was disappointed in Newt, but also worried. Logically she agreed with assisting Jacob. He was a good man, and he deserved a good life. However, at the same time she was upset that he might risk his own ability to return to the United States by helping Jacob. If his assistance was found out he probably wouldn't be able to return to see her. Her face flared in shame. How could she let herself become so selfish, she was putting her own happiness over both Jacob's and Newt's. She was ashamed.

She looked down in her lap and she saw the folded flyer and Fwooper feathers. One was bright pink and the other was bright yellow. Instinctively she picked up the bright yellow feather, somehow knowing it was the one Newt picked for her. It was beautiful. As she looked at the feather, she saw the subtle differences in hue about the sections of the feather. She noted its softness between her fingers. She could never use this as a quill she thought it was too special. It was too bright and beautiful to put in her hat, she would stand out too much and her job was to blend in. She set the feather aside and unfolded the flyer. In bright purple letter, it read:

"Coming this summer, a new compendium of magical creatures will arrive at a bookstore near you.

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

"One of the most useful household and educational books to come around in ages" – Albus Dumbledore

"A must-have for every witch or wizard who has ever had questions or concerns about magical beast" – Bathlida Bagshot- Author of History of Magic.

Book tour dates to be released this summer.

She folded the flyer and looked up at Queenie, who was smiling at her from the table.

"What?" Tina asked defensively.

"Of all the things in this letter to get worked up about Teenie, you picked the wrong thing."

Tina crossed the living room to stand over her sister's shoulder. Setting the feathers and flyer on the table in front of her sister.

"This part," she said pointing, "Newt explains how worried he is about you, even losing sleep about it. And here, he says you are a smart and talented witch. He found your letter fascinating." She raised her eyes suggestively. "Don't forget the part where he asks you to call him by his first name. Then he says he thinks of you often. Also, he signs it as 'Yours'."

Tina face flushed a deeper shade of red as she snatched the letter out of her sister's hand and sat down next to her to reread it.

"He did say those things" she whispered out loud, almost in shock, as her eyes flew over the text of the letter

Queenie had picked up the pink feather and had been spinning it in-between her fingers, as she watched her sisters face. Tina's blush deepened as she read the letter another time through.

"You're not mad at him, are you?" She asked softly.

"No, no I'm not" she replied softly, not looking up from her hands.

"You will write him back, won't you?" Queenie asked tentatively.

A small smile broke out across her sister's face "of course, I just need a few moments to recollect myself."

Tina stood, took the flyer, yellow feather, and letter into their bedroom and closed the door silently behind her.

Queenie smiled brightly to herself. She now had the next clue she needed to find Jacob.


	4. Chapter 4

January 5th, 1927

Dear Newt,

If you are going to insist that I call you Newt, I am going to insist that you call me Tina. No one calls me Porpentina, not even my parents when they were alive.

Also, I appreciate knowing you put a locking spell on your attic, make sure it is strong enough to withstand a well-placed alohomora.

I hope your New Year's celebration went well and that it was less stressful then your other holiday celebrations. Queenie and I went to watch the ball drop in Times Square. It's a no-maj tradition, but it is nice to be out with other people to celebrate. What they do is slowly lower a large iron ball that is wired with incandescent bulbs. When the ball is lowered at Midnight, it lights up and there is a huge fireworks show. It's pretty impressive, in its own right. While we might have strict No-Maj relations law, we can still appreciate the no-maj ingenuity. Maybe some year you'll be able to see it here in New York.

Queenie has been in much better sprits since I received your last letter. I, on the other hand, was very conflicted. While I recognize the good you did with your action to help Mr. Kowalski, I want to impress something upon you. You can never tell anyone else about this or we will both be in trouble. You'll be in trouble for aiding and assisting a no-maj whom we were expressly told to leave alone. I will be in trouble because I have hidden and personally endorsed your actions. I know, in my heart, you did the right thing for Jacob. He is a good man and deserves to live a good life. I know rules exist for a reason, but in this case, this is a notable exception to the rule.

Queenie has been in such a good mood that she took the feather you gave her, styled it into her hat, walked into MACUSA, and quit her job. She quit right after the New Year and frankly, I am flabbergasted. She said to Mr. Abernathy, her boss, that she didn't feel safe working at MACUSA anymore. That if Grindelwald could march into MACUSA unnoticed, unrecognized and almost kill me and you then she didn't feel safe working there anymore. She also said that she was concerned with security and if Grindelwald escaped, she thought that MACUSA headquarters would be the first place he would wreak havoc.

I will say this about my sister. She has got gumption. Of course, everything that she said was fair enough. There has been a lot of whisperings about Grindelwald around MACUSA. One thing that people keep saying is that even though he doesn't have a wand, he is still powerful enough to imperius a person. She just used the rumors she has been hearing to help find a way out of MACUSA. The rumors are even worse now that she left. People keep asking me if I tipped my sister off to something they should know.

However, I am slightly concerned what Queenie will do now. Most of her social life too place at work. We aren't well off, even if we aren't starving. She has never expressed an interested in working. Even as a child she never had a career or profession that she was interested in, unlike me. I knew that I wanted to be an auror from a very young age. I am sure I could support the both of us financially for a while, I'm just a bit concerned about what's going through her mind. It's the hard part about having a Legilimens as a sister, she always knows what you're thinking but you never know about what is going on in her mind. We have always been sisters and parents to each other and I guess I cannot help feeling like it is my responsibility to take care of her and her problems. Even thought I know I can't.

Sorry for such a depressing topic. I do have some good news for you. I can safely let you know that I am not assigned to Grindelwald protection team anymore. So, I hope that you will be able to rest better now, in the New Year. It seems that you were not the only person concerned about a potential revenge scheme. Madam President mentioned the danger of having me in the vicinity of his holding cell when she reassigned me. Then when Queenie quit she insisted that our address be removed from any MACUSA recorders, in case anyone, Grindelwald or any of his followers come to try to find us at home.

So my work as an auror has become a little less dangerous. I have been assigned to a new case, which I think you will find interesting. There seems to be a new breeder of Appaloosa Puffskeins in New York and since our last visit to the Blind Pig, my informant ring has shrunk. Funny how poorly a Goblin takes to being punched by a no-maj. Might you have any suggestions on where to start? If not, that is fine, I can find them on my own. I seem to have pretty good luck running into men with magical creatures.

However, I think what really got me removed from Grindelwald's security detail was your friend, Professor Dumbledore. He came to the city a few days ago to consult with Madam Picquary. He insisted that it was a private visit and that the only people who knew he was in New York, were myself and Madam President. He did say that I could write to you about his visit, as he felt that you would want to know. He was a very interesting man. I never expected him to come all the way to the United States, I assume he would just write.

We spoke at length about Mr. Graves and his time at MACUSA, the benefit of the continental knitting style, and of you and your upcoming book. He speaks very highly of you. We spoke of Hogwarts and Ilvermorny and the merits and pitfalls of magical education. I believe he might have even offered me a job, if I ever wanted to relocate. I was flattered, but I don't think there is enough adventure in education for me. He also told me you were a very good-hearted person, but I already knew that.

He does have a strange twinkle about him. I almost wonder if he is a Legilimens because at times it felt like he knew more then what I was telling him. I invited him back to our place for dinner but he turned down the invitation. He said that he knew our landlady didn't look kindly on male visitors. Did you tell him about Mrs. Esposito?

I must say thank you for the feather, it is too beautiful to use as a quill. It's also too beautiful for me to wear, so I have set it on my bedside table. It is the first thing I see in the morning. I thought it was only proper to send something back for you this time, since I am always sending things for your creatures. I started working on this after I received your first letter. I hope you don't find this too forward, but I made you a pair of wool socks. You already had a scarf, and when I thought about making gloves, that just didn't seem practical. I figured with your field work you probably need gloves of dragon hid, not wool. However, then I remembered that you wear boots and every good pair of boots needs a good pair of wool socks to go with them. I'm sorry they aren't more beautiful, I hand stitched this pair instead of using magic. Professor Dumbledore saw me working on them and he also thought socks were a good gift, and I hope he was right.

I hope they fit. I also put a temperature charm on them, so they will never get too hot or too cold while you are wearing them.

I have also included a few small things for some of your fantastic beasts. Please let Pickett know that this was the best I could do with it be winter in New York.

Yours warmly,

Tina Goldstein.

Newt rubbed the wool socks between his fingers and his eyes started to water. There was a tightening in chest. This was one of the most considerate gifts he had ever received. The socks were a light brownish gray. He unfolded them and for the moment he felt overwhelmed. He had never had a woman, who wasn't his mother, make him something special. He remarked to himself how this was a truly considerate gift. Suddenly, he stripped off his boots and pulled over his current, well-worn socks but paused before pulling on his new gift. He wanted to hold, and inspect them a bit longer.

His fingers ran over the small even stitches that made up the ribbed cuff of the sock. She had even knit a small decorative cable down the front of the sock. It was subtle, but he knew that little design added work and time to the knitting process. His own mother would use magic to knit scarfs for the hippogriffs she breed. It didn't matter how many time he told her that it scarfs would not affect their body temperatures or change their mating habits, however she insisted it made a different in their quality of life. Her favorite hippogriff stud got a beautifully knit cabled scarf every winter that he tore to shreds within weeks.

However, this pair of socks, this small cabled gift, was for him and him alone. He imagined the time that must have gone into them if Tina made them by hand. Knitting didn't seem like an out-of-place skill for Tina, as knitting was so practical. He wouldn't have been able to picture her tatting lace, or trimming hats, but knitting seem right. However, he could close his eyes and see Tina sitting with her sister after dinner in their living room, knitting while they listened to the wireless together.

He help the wool up to his noise and sniffed it. A side of him hoped to smell something…feminine, however all he smelled was wool. He rubbed the wool against his freshly shaved cheek. It was a very soft wool, unlike the itchy sweaters of his childhood. Gifts forced on him from great aunts, who only saw him at Christmas. He closed his eyes and tried to memorize the feeling.

He leaned back in his chair, opened his eyes and saw Dougal sitting across from him in their temporary attic home. The demiguise was watching him with is eyes full of kindness and curiosity.

"Oh Dougal, I didn't see you there" He felt himself blush. He was embarrassed to have been caught in a compromising situation. In the back of Newt's mind he knew that this really wasn't a compromising situation to a beast. They would not think that his behavior was off or out of line yet, he still felt like he got caught doing something embarrassing.

Dougal made his way slowly across the room to sit in front of Newt, looking up at his human friend calmly. Dougal pointed to the box that Tina had send, his eyes showed his curiosity.

"Oh, right, yes. Tina sent a box this time, with her letter." He said quickly, taking the box off his desk to show Dougal. The pair peered into the box and this time Newt saw something with Dougal's name on it. He reached in and pulled out a very large and very colorful lollipop.

The tag on it read "To Dougal, I hope you are allowed to have sweets. I saw this and for some reason, thought you would like it. – Tina"

Newt handed it his friend, who smiled almost shyly and blinked slowly up at Newt. It was moments like this he wished Dougal could speak, since he felt like his demiguise was trying to communicate something to him. However, the moment passed and Dougal turned and wandered away.

After watching is friend head back into the attic zoo, Newt turned his attention back to the box. Inside he found: Tulip Poplar sticks with a note for Pickett to share these with is fellow Bowtruckles, a jar of frozen roaches for the Occamy, and a silver dollar for his niffler. He smiled to himself. Tina's consideration of his creatures caused Newt to feel an overwhelming affection for Tina. He felt a personal affection for Tina but this was different, the fact that she cared about his creatures meant a lot to him. He was used to people around him humoring him or blatantly ignoring his interests. His parents tried in vain for several years to introduce him to a nice young woman, however all their attempts failed miserably. He believed that his parents had just given up on him meeting someone, which was fine by him since they stopped making him attend uncomfortable social events.

He picked up her letter again and reread the passage about the feather he had given her. His brow furrowed as he thought about how Tina had appreciated the feather, but wasn't going to wear or use it. Newt look back down at the socks laying in his lap and a small feeling of shame flared up in his chest. Tina had sent him such a useful and thoughtful gift and all he did was send her a feather what he had lying around his shack. Yes, he choose to send her a yellow one specifically because he coat was blue. He thought that the blue and yellow would look nice together. However in retrospect, Tina would want to keep her appearance quiet and subdued. It was important for Tina to blend in to her surroundings. Her ability to go unnoticed was also part of keeping her safe. That was her camouflage, Newt realized. Suddenly he felt even worse about his insensitivity.

What could he give her that would be useful? What was something meaningful, something that Tina could use and would enjoy? He sat lost in thought for a few moments before he realized that he was still sitting barefoot at his desk and worked needed to be done. He finally pulled on his new socks with a smile. He took a few moments to enjoy them, before he laced up his boots. His mind was whirling with ideas, as he grabbed the box of gifts from Tina and headed into his zoo.


	5. Chapter 5

January 11th, 1927

Dear Tina,

My New Year celebrations were remarkably relaxed. I spent the evening in the temporary attic zoo, working on my book. I should have a first draft ready in the next week to show my editor.

The repairs and reinforcements of my suitcase have just about been completed. The case really is a labour of love. Not only does it need special charms that off-set the weight of the creatures inside of it but the undetectable extension charms need to be fool-proof. Then each habitat needs its own type of care and attention, since they all have their own artificial environments. It was difficult, to say the least, when it came to dismantling the Thunderbird enclosure, knowing that it will never be needed again. However, it served its purpose, and thanks to that enclosure a trafficked beast has it's freedome. If I taking the habitat out now, I can prepare for whoever might join my group next. I need to go through and adjust the atmospheric spells on all the different habitats still, however when it is finally time for me to go back out into the field, my beasts and I will be ready. I have also fixed my case latch, so accidental escapes should be down to a minimum now.

Sometime, I would appreciate it if you would give me your professional opinion on ways that I could improve my case. Maybe when I see you next in New York you'll do me the honor?

I must say Tina, I was relieved when you wrote back. I was truly worried you would be angry with me for my actions regarding Jacob. He told me he felt like he was dying in that canning factory, and Jacob in the short time I have known him has given me so much. I needed to do something to repay his friendship. As I am sure you can tell, I don't always well-received by most people. Many people find me annoying and odd. Yet, Jacob accepted me and that kind of acceptance has been surprisingly hard for me to find, even in a magical world. However, I will keep my actions a secret from everyone else. Only you, Queenie and I will know. He doesn't know that it was me who assisted him. Frankly, he doesn't know any of us anymore. He really is a good man and I can understand why you sister took to him like she did.

I understand your concern for your sister. However, she is a smart lady and I am almost positive she is not acting out of grief. It could be quite possible that maybe knowing that Jacob had been provided for inspired a new sense of purpose in her life. I wouldn't be surprised if she found herself a job working in a muggle shop, just to be closer to people like Jacob. Also, she is probably keeping you in the dark about her actions because she thinks that it will prevent you from worrying. Even though you and I both know that it won't.

Despite having a brother, he and I haven't been close since we were children. We grew apart the second he boarded the train for Hogwarts, so I don't really have good advice to offer. However, I am more than happy to be your sounding board. Please feel free to tell me whatever you'd like, and I will do my best to understand and be supportive. You don't need to carry the burden alone. Please don't feel that there is any topic too depressing to bring to me. I'm sorry that is the most I can offer while being so far away.

How are you doing with being the only Goldstein at MACUSA? I will admit, almost selfishly, I am very pleased you are not on Grindelwald's security detail. In your first letter when you said that you couldn't give me any details about it, I knew you were on that case. The truth is, Grindelwald is powerful enough to imperius someone without a wand. Especially someone who is weak minded. Queenie also had a point, Grindelwald does have followers. I know you can take care of yourself, but please be safe.

As for your new assignment, I think hunting down a puffskein breeder sounds much safer. I know it won't be as exciting as an Occamy in a department store, but you never know what a puffskein might be up too. Be careful or you might get yourself a reputation in MACUSA as the person to ask for help with about magical creatures. However, I know you seem to have good luck running into men with magical creatures but that won't help with this case. After I received your letter, I received another letter from New York, asking if I was still interested in a Appaloosa Puffskein. Turns out if you say that in front of a national delegation of wizards, word gets out. You might not have Gnarlak as an informant anymore, but it seems like you might be doing fine without him. I know you well enough to know that by the time you receive this letter you will have either found who you're looking for or you are very close to it. Let me just say that it is a Russian Royal in the US on political asylum.

You know, you might like having a puffskein as a pet. If you do decide you want to get one, just know that it does have a tendency to stick its tongue up sleeping witches and wizard's noses and eat what it finds. Actually, now that I think about it, you are much more a kneazle kind of woman. Kneazles are tend to be excellent at judging peoples characters. They tend to sniff out shady or untrustworthy beings. Actually, I think the investigations team should invest in one to keep around for investigations. However that might be a bit too… odd for MACUSA. I have been trying to get Ministry aurors to enlisted abandoned kneazles but, once again, this is seen as one of my many "strange" suggestions.

I will say, I am surprised Professor Dumbledore came to see you in New York. He made it seem like he was going to write when he said he was going to be in contact with you. However, something to know about Dumbledore is that he typically several steps ahead of the game. He might very well be a Legilimens. Actually, now that you say that it would make sense. He often seems to know about things he shouldn't. Things would happen at school and he would seem to know when someone was lying. Mrs. Esposito is an excellent example, I most assuredly did not tell Dumbledore about her. However, it would have been interesting having dinner with Dumbledore, at least a small personal dinner. He used to eat with us in the Great Hall at Hogwarts but he never sat with students. I actually know very little about him outside of his academic accomplishments.

Also I am not surprised Dumbledore might have mentioned a teaching position to you. He is supposedly a candidate for the next Headmaster positon. I think he is always looking for talent to potentially bring to the school. He mentioned to me that if I was ever interested in teaching, to just ask him. Sometimes that is a tempting offer when stuck behind a stack of ministry papers. However the downside about being a professors is when would I find time to take care of my creatures?

For the record I think you would make a wonderful Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Does Ilvermorny offer Defense classes? Do you think you will stay working as an auror at MACUSA? I know in your last letter you said it was something you wanted to do since childhood. I would assume your plan is to stay in New York? Just curious.

The box you sent with your last letter was beyond generous. I don't know if there are enough words to say thank you. My creatures loved the things that you sent. However, I must thank you specifically for the socks. They are wonderful and fit perfectly. The temperature charm works wonders too. I have never been so comfortable with shoes on before. The time that you spent making them has been well appreciated. Thank you so very much Tina. It was more then I deserved.

I have included something for you in this letter. After receiving your thoughtful gift, I realized how inadequate the Fwooper feather I sent you was. I choose a yellow feather because your coat is blue and I thought they would look nice together. However, I didn't consider how a bright yellow feather in your hat would make you stand out in a group of aurors. I also didn't think about how you probably write with muggle pens while in the field, since quills and ink can be so messy. I am rather ashamed at my poor attempt of a gift, especially since you so thoughtfully give gifts for several of my friends including myself.

So I thought about it long and hard and I think I came up with the perfect gift to thank you for the socks. There is a tiny brooch in this envelope. I have put every type of shield charm I could think of on the little guy. For those very rare moments when you don't have enough time to cast a shield charm, this brooch should automatically protect you. I hope it's to your liking. It's an old school pin of mine. I tried to pick something subtle enough that you would feel comfortable wearing it daily but also nice enough to express to you how much your gift means to me. I hope its okay that I polished it before I sent it to you. Please forgive me if it isn't to your liking, I tried my best. I am out of practice at giving gifts.

I look forward to your next letter.

Yours,

Newt Scamander

Tina stuck her hand back into the envelope and pulled out a pin about the size of a quarter. It was what looked to be a small golden badger. The badger was standing on its hind legs, with its front paws in the air. She thought that the badger was a bit odd, but it somehow fit her understanding of him. She didn't understand the significance of a badger, but it was very nice. It might be a British thing. She would ask about it in her next letter.

She held it up to the light and the light from the lamps flashed across it. The most she studied the pin, the more and more she liked it. It wasn't overly ornate. There were no jewels or beads on it, which was fine by her. She like the simplicity of its design. Also, the fact that it was his own personal pin was not lost on her. It made her feel warm just thinking about it.

She set the charm down on the table and stood back by the windows. She shot a tickle jinx at it, and to her surprise, it came flying right back at her. It really worked! She look a pillow off the couch and put it in front of the pin. She was curious if the pin would still shield if it was covered by a coat or scarf. Another tickle jinx was sent in its direction, and the spell rebounded again. Tina was impressed, she knew that Newt was good at charms the first time she went into his case. However shield charms were a completely different type of charm. She walked back over to the table and picked up the pin to inspect it. Sometimes if you knew what you were looking for, you could feel traces of magic spells that had been case before. However, nothing felt off or distinctly magically about this pin.

She walked over to the mirror the girls kept in their bedroom and carefully pinned the small badger to her collar. She smiled at her reflection, and blushed. She brushed back the portion of hair that Newt touched before he left. She turned away from the mirror, and mentally chastised herself for acting like a silly child over a gift. However, she fingers found their way back to the pin and she felt herself smile, despite herself.

She wished Queenie was home so she could show her the gift from Newt. Tina sighed to herself. Since Queenie had left MACUSA, she was out later. She would rarely be home when Tina got back from work. Tina would wait an hour and if Queenie wasn't back by 6:30 she would make supper herself. She found herself eating alone, with Queenie coming in right before she finished supper. Every time Queenie came in she was smiling and laughing. Yet she never told Tina where she had been during the day. She wondered if Queenie had met a guy, and replaced Jacob in her heart, but she didn't know how to ask her. Tina had never felt this alone before.

She sighed to herself. At one point she knew Queenie was going to leave her, but Tina didn't think it would be so soon. Tina assumed they would be together until one or both of them got married. However she wasn't so sure anymore. Her eyes scanned the room for something to do, for something to distract her from her thought. Her eyes landed on Newt's letter sitting on the couch. She felt herself grow warm as she crossed the room to reread the letter.

This second time she paused at specific phrases. 'Dear Tina', 'You don't have to carry this burden alone,' and 'Yours, Newt' which all made her chest feel tight. However there were things with more meaning in the letter that she saw the second time around.

He wanted her to inspect his magical creature's case. He wanted her to make suggestions on how to make it better. That was an immense compliment coming from a man who literally takes his work with him everywhere he goes. Tina was sure that he just didn't invite people into his case and ask their opinions on how to make it function better. He trusted her with the very essence of his work, and that really spoke volumes from a man like Newt.

He also inquired as to her plans about staying in New York and he plans to be an auror. Was he asking if she would be open to the idea of moving to England? Or was he saying he might be interested in moving to New York? She shook herself. 'He might just be being polite', she reminded her. Sighing, she looked down at her hands. What did she want to do?

Tina had always wanted to be an auror because it seemed like the best type of job for her. A strict set of rules, a strong code of ethics, and adventure all were the things that Tina wanted at Ilvermorny. However, she wasn't sure what she wanted now. Yes she might be an auror again, but she couldn't help feeling betrayed by Madam Picquary when she accused Tina of keeping Newt and his case a secret. She tried to report it, but was turned away. That hurt her more then she would ever admit, especially since she did it in front of Newt, who was, at the time, a complete stranger. At times she felt isolated among her fellow auror. They were all good witches and wizards but no one seemed to second guess any orders they received and that concerned Tina.

What would she do if she left the MACUSA? What if she moved to England to be with Newt? She stopped herself again. 'He did not ask you to move to England' she reminded herself silently. What would happen to her and Queenie if she quit MACUSA? They would have to move out of the Brownstone they lived in. Maybe they could move to a different city, like Detroit or Chicago? Large cities with MACUSA branches. Maybe they should go out west to Hollywood and start fresh in the sunshine. She knew Queenie would love it there. However the thought of her sister stopped her short.

Actually she didn't know what Queenie would like, at least, not anymore. Tina sighed and looked at the clock, it was just about 6:30 and her sister wasn't home.

Suddenly feeling very tired, she decided to skip supper, and take Newt's letter to bed with her.

When Queenie arrived home at 8:30, she found her sister asleep in bed with Newt's letter in her hand. Queenie gently tugged it out of Tina's hand, careful not to wake her sleeping sister, and crept into the living room to read her sister's letter.


	6. Interlude

January 13th, 1967

Mr. Scamander,

I know you are probably expecting a letter from Teenie, since she just received a letter from you today. But I wanted to write to you, in private, to ask you a few questions. I would really appreciate it if you would keep this from Teenie. I know she is worried about me, but I also know that she would stop me if she knew what I was up to. Please don't think me cruel Mr. Scamander, I just know that this is something I need to do alone.

First, do you know which bank Jacob might have gotten his loan from? I've been to several institutions looking for paperwork on him but so far I have come up empty handed. There are so many banks in New York that it might be months before I make any progress. Any information you can provide in this regard would help immensely.

Second, do you remember the neighborhood that Jacob lived in? If he did decide to open a bakery, it would probably be likely that it would be in that area.

Thank you for your time Mr. Scamander. I really appreciate it. Also please, for my sake, don't tell Teenie I wrote to you about this. It would just upset her.

Thank you!

Sincerely,

Queenie Goldstein

* * *

Newt furrowed his brow as he finished his letter. Suddenly he was in a very bad mood. This letter he was not the one he was expecting or hoping for. Additionally he knew this letter would cause Tina pain.

Unlike his typical practice of taking a day or two to write Tina back, Newt pulled out a sheet of paper right away and started to scribble a message back.

* * *

January 16th, 1926

Miss Queenie Goldstein,

I must say that I was very surprised at you letter. I was also very disappointed. I will keep your correspondence a secret from Tina, but only because she would feel betrayed to know that you came to me, when you could have just asked her.

I am sorry if this comes off as harsh Miss Goldstein, but your sister has been very worried about you. I can tell by her letters. Yet here you are, keeping her in the dark and using your ability to read minds against her. You are not this type of woman Miss Goldstein, we both know this.

You might be able to read minds, but that does not mean you can predict the future.

As for your questions, I believe the bank was called Steen National Bank. As for Jacob's residence, your sister would know better than I. I was taken there against my will, and I have very little geographical knowledge of New York.

I am going to urge you to confide in your sister. You two have been together for so long as a pair, that it seems wrong to keep this kind of secret. It seems unfair to suddenly start treating Tina like an outsider, when all she really wants is for you to be happy.

Please consider taking my advice.

N. Scamander.

* * *

It was lunch time and Queenie was home alone when Newt's letter arrived. She hadn't expected him to respond so quickly, since Teenie had not finished her return letter for him yet. She typically took a day or two to figure out what she wanted to say before she started writing. Then writing could take her another day or so.

Sitting at the table with a cup of coffee, she read her letter in the silence of their brownstone.

When she finished reading, she wept.

When Teenie got home from work, Queenie was sitting on the couch waiting for her.


	7. Chapter 6

January 22nd, 1927

Dear Newt,

Please forgive me for my very late letter, I got your letter about ten days ago and so much has happened since. I thought your letter was lovely, so I hope you didn't think my delay was because of that.

I came home from work one evening about a week ago and Queenie was sitting at the table waiting for me. It was obvious she had been crying. It was strange since I felt like I hadn't seen her in weeks. Then suddenly there she was, in a devastated place. She asked me to sit with her and she told me everything.

Since she had quit MACUSA she had been searching for Jacob. She learned that you gave him the collateral that he needed for his bank loan, so she went out in search of his bakery. It turns out that you were partly right. She was going out to spend time with no-majs but not to feel closer to Jacob but to find him. It was actually pretty ingenious of her. She started going into women's shops; clothing, fabric, stockings, shoes, millinery and the like and while under the guise of shopping would try to root out information about new bakeries in the area. However, Queenie underestimated the size of New York and the number of bakeries in the city.

After trying that for a few days, she decided to narrow her search, as it is possible Jacob's bakery isn't open yet. She started with the banks. She would go into banks and ask about Jacob. I don't think Queenie fully realized how confidential bankers could be. She would mention his name and then read their minds to see if they were hiding anything. When that venture was fruitless, she started applying for jobs at the different banks, hoping to get in and go through their files. She was trying to narrow down the banks and his neighborhoods when she wrote to you.

Yes, she told me about that too. She stole your most recent letter from me while I was asleep to see if you had told me anything else about Jacob that I might have been withholding from her. When she nothing, she decided to go directly to you. Once again Newt, I feel like I am in your debt. Without even knowing it, you solved the problem that was bothering me the most, why Queenie was pushing me away.

I must come off as too strict to my sister. She truly thought that I wouldn't want her to be with Jacob, even if it made her the happiest person in the world. She thought that Rappaport's law was more important to me then her. I am ashamed that I ever made her feel that way. Yes it is true that right after you left I encouraged her to forget about him, and maybe that was insensitive of me. I just thought, at the time, he was a passing fancy. I didn't realize at the time how deep her affection for him really was. Maybe that is the hardship of being a Legilimens, you can meet, learn and fall in love with someone faster because you can completely access who they are. While the rest of us are just trying to figure out if someone likes us or not, she can know someone's true character.

I will admit, I am worried. I told her so too. It's is possible that she might find Jacob, but it also might be possible that he might not fall in love with her again. He has forgotten about us, and it is very possible he has met another woman. It is also possible he left New York and started his bakery is a different state completely. It is also possible that something tragic might have happened since November. She told me she had been worried about that herself but that she needed to know if they still had a chance. She said she give up the magical world for him. I never knew she was so serious. We cried together for a while.

We spent the next few days talking about some important issues that we both had been intentionally neglecting, like where our futures lie. I think the Grindelwald episode at MACUSA really shook Queenie and I out of the idea that we were always going to be together. In your last letter you asked if I wanted to stay at MACUSA forever, and I had never thought of it before. I guess I just assumed that life was always going to be the same until your niffler escaped at the bank.

I don't think I want to work at MACUSA forever. I think I realized that when Madam Picquary accused me of hiding you from her. When they took your case without hearing us out, I think that was the turning point for me. The Grindelwald part I cannot hold against MACUSA, but the fact that we weren't even worth listening to hurt. Queenie and I talked about this. What is the use of following all the rules, when the people in charge do what they want?

That was part of the reason Queenie quit. She was upset about the injustice of it all. That Madam President gives me my old job back, you wipe all the no-maj memories and we all just forget about what happened. She couldn't forget, and refused to forget Jacob. I guess I was also a bit, insensitive in regards to her feelings. I feel like I have gained several valuable things from the Grindelwald experience, when she feels like all she has done is lost.

Queenie said that she finally had something she wanted more than anything else in her life. She wanted to make sure Jacob's dream came true. So, I agreed to help her find Jacob. That is part of the reason why it has taken me longer to write you than normal. The past several days, after work Queenie and I go out searching for Jacob. We have turned up nothing yet, however you will be the first to know when we do.

Being out with Queenie has been fun. We search for Jacob but we also spend time together like we used to when we were younger. Just the other day we walked past a mo-maj photography studio and had portraits taken for no reason at all. Of course, the pictures don't move but I must admit the turned out pretty nice. We have also been to Central Park together and I finally convinced Queenie to try a hot dog with me. I am very thankful for this time with my sister, since I think we both know our time together is drawing to a close. I don't know, does that make sense? I'm sorry I am rambling on.

Thank you again Newt. If it had not been for you, your writing to me, your writing to Queenie, I don't think we would have bridge this gap between us. So thanks.

However, one thing I don't need to thank you for, is the hint with Appaloosa puffskein breeder. By the time I had received your letter I had already narrowed it down to a Russian diplomat in exile. My inclination was that was a woman. It was all settled rather delicately as the countess question was only temporarily in the city. She seemed very keen to meet you and was disappointed you left the states before she arrived.

I informed her that you had already told me of your correspondence. She asked if we wrote each, and I told her, yes quiet frequently. She seemed to recover from her disappointment and we had a very lovely tea together. I expressed my concerns that I didn't want her time in America ruined by any unnecessary inquiries from MACUSA regarding her newest litter of puffskeins. She appreciated my concern and informed me that she was just passing through New York and that it wasn't her intention to be in the city when the litter was born. However they were currently just too young to be moved.

Obviously that was all lies, but this was really more of a diplomatic assignment than anything else. Afterwards we discussed the subtle differences between the different puffskein breeds, her education at Drumstrang and how the international community was responding to the Grindelwald threat. She asked me to pass her regards to you. She also said she was 'honored' to meet the girl who helped you catch Grindelwald. The Countess obviously was at school with Grindelwald, but she gave no inclination of her support or opposition of him. Which, in retrospect she wouldn't have done anyways, since she is a diplomat in exile. I don't trust her in the least, however, I did kind of like her.

Madam President was not pleased, to say the least, when she learned I had met with an international diplomatic royal without her present. She said she didn't believe that kind of behavior was appropriate of an auror. However, I told her all we did was have tea and discuss regulations in puffskein breeding, which the Countess was extremely well informed on. I told her that I would bring her with me next time the Countess was in New York, since she had invited me to dine with her on her next visit. Madam Picquary was very displeased.

I must say you were right, one magical creatures case and now they are all being assigned to me. I'm not sure if this is because Madam Picquary is upset that I slighted her or if because suddenly everyone feels that I am most suited for the job. I've had a cases about; black market Runespoor eggs, complaints about clabberts being places in trees despite the ruling against it, and fire crabs being bought and sold without proper licenses. Do you have any suggestions on any of all of those topics? Honestly, I am looking forward to having your book for a reference at this point. I also think that it might be high time of MACUSA to develop a magical creatures section so these tasks don't keep falling to the investigative team. However, if I bring it up, I will get assigned to that department. Not that it wouldn't be a great department to be a part of but it would really need someone with a solid knowledge base in creatures.

As for having department kneazles, I think it is a great idea. I might just bring one into the office one day and see how long it takes for something to notice. I wish we could have one at home too, however house rules state: No Men and No Pets. We have already broken one major rule. When you come to New York next, would you like to stay with Queenie and I again? Or, if you don't feel comfortable sleeping in our apartment, at least keeping your case there if you decide to sleep in your shed? That way you could enjoy our traditional homemade American breakfasts.

How is the book coming along? In your last letter you said that you almost had your first draft done? How did your editor like it?

Additionally I am honored that you have asked for my professional opinion on your suitcase, I would be honored to give it to you. I could tell that a lot of thought had gone into the design and construction of your case, and I'd be happy to help as best as I can. I hope I don't let you down. When are you moving your creatures back into the case? Are you ready to be done with the attic?

On the topic of feeling let down, I want you to know that I really do enjoy the Fwoofer feather. I don't want you to think that just because I can't wear it, doesn't mean that I can't appreciate it. I do appreciate it and I am extremely grateful for the thought that you put into.

I also must thank you for the lovely brooch. I wear it every day. It gave me confidence in my meeting with the Countess about the puffskeins and when I stood up to Madam Picquary. I have tested out the shield charm on my own, but thankfully it hasn't been used at work. There is something different about that brooch. Anytime I wear it I feel more confident, almost stronger. Did you put any other spells on it besides shield charms? I am not sure what you've done but it is lovely.

I wish there were words enough to express my gratitude. I have never been given such a lovely or considerate gift before. I'm really not sure what to do or say, other than thank you.

However, I am curious, it is a badger, right? I am curious why you had a badger pin in the first place.

Well, Newt it seems that I have run out of paper and I shall have to go buy more before I receive your next letter. These letters have been such a bright spot in my life lately.

Good Night Newt. I hope your day tomorrow is wonderful.

Yours affectionately,

Tina

* * *

When he finished the letter, he let out a long sigh. His whole body started to relax. He stretched his shoulders and reflected that keeping a secret correspondence from Tina had stressed him. It had worked him up more than he wanted to admit. There was a combination of fears about the whole venture. He was worried Tina would be upset with him if she ever found out that he and Queenie had talked about her behind her back. Would she feel betrayed? He felt guilty about keeping Queenie's actions a secret from Tina, especially since she had been so worried about her sister. He also spoke very harshly to Queenie, and he was also worried that if Tina found out, she would think he was too hard on her.

Newt sighed again. He was so grateful that Queenie had told her everything. However, he was even more grateful that Tina was not mad at him. It really was as if someone took a weight off his chest.

'So they are going to find Jacob?' Newt thought to himself. He knew that if the two of them worked together, they could solve any problem. He almost felt bad for Jacob, because he knew that when Tina was determined to do something, like report him to MACUSA, nothing would stop her. Yet, was Queenie really willing to give up the magical world for a man she only knew for a few days? 'It seemed like the sisters were planning very different futures' thought Newt.

His eyes hovered over the paragraph when Tina said she didn't want to stay at MACUSA forever. Again, a sense of relief flooded him. From the first moment when Madam Picquary turned Tina away he had disliked her. He understood that she was the president, but he also knew that a good leader did not belittle or demean an employee in front of others. That was a tasteless move.

He was pleased that Tina realized this herself. He had been careful when speaking about the president in his letters to Tina. He didn't want to say anything that might offend her, if she was feeling extremely loyal to her. The fact that she imprisoned both himself, a no-maj and one of her own employees in front of the International Wizarding Confederation had not gone unnoticed. There were mumblings at the Ministry if the Americans could be trusted to keep Grindelwald imprisoned with such a careless president.

If Tina wanted to leave MACUSA, he would not stop her. In fact, he hoped she would leave sooner than later. However, he knew he also wanted her to leave MACUSA for more selfish reasons. He shook himself and continued reviewing the letter.

Tina's meeting with the Countess had peaked Newt's interest. He had known before Tina's letter that she had seen the Countess, since the Countess wrote him herself. Her letter to him was very complimentary of Tina. The Countess said that Tina was a charming young girl and that she was happy to meet the girl who assisted him in capturing Grindelwald. He noted himself that she spoke of Tina in a diminutive sense several times. At one point she ever referred to Tina as a "darling child." He thought that was odd, but now after Tina's letter, he felt like he had his answer.

The answer made Newt, a bit, uncomfortable. He thought that the ladies might have been trying to stake a claim on a future mate. He had seen female griffins out stalk each other for the rights to breed with the strongest male in the group. This was done with posturing. The two griffin paced a circle taking turns puffing out their chests, displaying their wings and rearing up on their hind legs. This is all for show among the females of course, since all his research shows that male griffins never see this posturing. The male in question selects his female mate on completely different criteria. However the posturing is extremely important among the females in a herd. This behavior helps establish a hierarchy among the females.

With how the Countess talked about Tina, kindly but slightly dismissively and how Tina describe the Countess reaction to their correspondence, he thought that Tina might have won the posturing between the two. That very thought made him flush. He had not been one to ever receive much attention for other people, let those who might want a romantic relationship with him.

He had written back to the Countess, of course. When royalty write, you always write back. However, he kept his letter polite and concise. He explained to the Countess that he and Tina captured Gindelwald together, as equals, she did not assist him. In his letter he also expressed how thankful he was that the Countess had the honor of meeting Tina in person, as she was a fantastic witch. He felt that the two women had much in common and that they would enjoy each other's company.

Newt was pleased that Madam Picquary was displeased with Tina taking control of her own work. Tina was such a strong and smart witch, and he wanted her to feel proud of herself and not defer to other. He had seem Madam Picquary break down Tina's momentum twice, but not this time. It was high time Tina be valued for her true ability.

The sound of an owl tapping at his window drew him out of his thoughts. He was surprised to see another international owl waiting for him to open the window.

International delivery owls were much larger than your stand barn owl. They flew at a much faster rate, for longer, and Newt knew that these owls were charmed by the Owl Post to stay awake longer and fly harder. Sending international delivery owls were more expensive, but that is typically what he and Tina used to correspond as it cut down the delivery time for five days to two and a half.

'Could she have sent him a second letter so quickly?' He thought to himself as he crossed the room to open the window.

The owl dropped a small letter on the window sill before flying off. Newt recognized Queenie's handwriting immediately. Upon opening the envelope, he found a second smaller envelope and a letter inside.

He carried the two over to his desk to read.

* * *

January 22nd, 1927

Mr. Scamander,

You were right. I am can't see the future.

Thank you for reminding me to trust the people I love the most.

Sincerely,

Queenie Goldstein

P.S. I hope you don't find this too forward, but I have included something for you as a thank you gift, which I think you'll appreciate.

* * *

Upon opening the smaller envelope he found the muggle portrait of Tina. This much be the photograph Tina had wrote to him about. In the photograph, she sat still and smiling towards the camera. Her hair was carefully parted down the center and her black hair fell just above her eyes. She looked exactly the same as she did on the docks the last day her saw her. There on her white blouse, as plain as day, was Newt's badger pin.

Newt felt his chest get tight.


	8. Chapter 7

January 26th, 1927

Dear Tina,

I was very pleased when I read your last letter. I am happy that you and Queenie are going to work together to find Jacob. The two of you are quite the unstoppable pair and I can safely say I wouldn't be alive without the two of you.

I must say, I am very impressed with Queenie's dedication to Jacob, even her willingness to leave the magical world to be with him. I can't help but wish American's had different laws in regards to relationships with non-magical humans. It just doesn't seem right to make your sister pick between you and the magical world she grew up in and Jacob and the muggle world, which she barely know. Here in England you can marry a muggle and stay in the magical world. Yes, we typically don't reveal our magical abilities until further into the relationship, however it does happen.

I admire Queenie's belief in their relationship. Chances are he will fall in love with her all over again when they meet for the second time, however it is still a very intimidating process. To make yourself vulnerable to being hurt by another person. There is nothing one can really do to prepare for it. You can't read books, or attend lessons on falling in love. There is no crash course on relationships, at least not one that really works. I hear those lessons you mail-away for are terrible. You have to find someone that you trust will catch you when you take that leap into the future, it seems.

If Queenie and Jacob have found that with each other, then I expect they will be just fine.

I sincerely hope that you do not end up losing your sister due to your government's laws. However the hunt for Jacob sounds like it is doing the two of you good. It sounds like you are finding time to enjoy yourself with your sister despite all your cases at the ministry and assisting with finding Jacob. What other things have you done with your sister since starting your hunt? How is the search for Jacob going? I am not sure how long it takes to set up a bakery but I am sure he is on his way, if not already there.

I was pleased to hear about your successful meeting with the Countess. I received another letter from her after your meeting. Her letter was polite and she said she was pleased to have met you. I told her how I thought you were an excellent witch and that I was pleased you got to make each other's acquaintance.

However, I let her know that you did not "assist me" in capturing Grindelwald. I informed her that you and I worked as a team, as equal partners. I was only able to do what I could because I knew that you had my back. The fact of the matter is you distracted Graves and held him at bay long enough for me to get close to Credence and that without you, things would have turned out worse than they did. I let her know that you skills as an auror were one of the reasons I admire you, but also your keen mind and your ability to be empathic to those you are working against. I have not heard back from her since my last letter.

I am not missing her correspondence in the least. I have been very busy with my book. My first manuscript went to the editors about two weeks ago and the first round of comments was difficult to hear. Time and time again my editor kept saying to "stop sounding so smart." He said that I am writing for other magizoologists and not the everyday witch or wizard. My content is too dense and my I need to learn to stop using the jargon of my field. This has proven to be a very challenging task for me since when I read it, it makes sense. Words like choranaptyxic, and details like the movements of the Mooncalf mating dance are normal everyday things for me. It is trying work to rewrite some of my entries, however I know my editor is right. I just wish I had someone else I could show these sections to that wasn't my editor.

I'd love to know your opinion, however with the delay on internationals owl and the cost, I would be poor and behind schedule by the time I had made you going through my manuscript with a fine-toothed comb. However, a side of me wants to surprise you with my book. I don't want to give away anything before I can hand you a copy personally.

However, I can help you with some of your new creature cases that you have been getting at work that is if you don't have them solved by now on your own. First, runespoor eggs are notorious for being on the black market. They are very valuable when it comes to making potions for mental agility. So what I would do is pull up the potions ingredient lists for some of the most popular runespoor egg potions and watch the apothecaries. This will give you an idea of who might be brewing the potions. The person who drinks the potion won't brew it themselves. I am sure you know about the underground potions market, if you watch the apothecaries, you should being to find your potions ring dealing in runespoor eggs.

Clabberts are actually a bit harder to deal with simply because the keeping clabberts in your trees is an old-witch's-tale in the Americas. The best thing to do is meet the family with the clabberts and get to know them a bit. This is vital in finding out why they are using clabberts in the first place. Historically they were used to warn witches and wizards of approaching muggles. However, in a large City like New York it is constantly happening. Showing them simple ward charms would be easier than keeping clabberts, especially since feeding them in the winter in New York is probably pretty costly. However if the family is keeping clabberts for a reason other than protection, I would encourage them to rehome their clabberts to a relative in the country or to a creature home. The whole reason a clabbert lights up is because it is sense danger. In New York the poor creature is probably constantly sensing danger and this actually is very stressful on the little guys. It can severely shorten their life spans and destroys their quality of life. Please try to encourage the owners to think of the creatures. I truly believe that if they just knew a bit more about the creatures, they would rehome them.

As for the fire crabs, just give this one time and pay attention to major fires in wizarding homes. Those little guys have a very powerful defense mechanisms. When they feel threatened, they shoot flames from their rear ends. Most people who don't have the special license, don't know that. They will weed themselves out.

I would very much appreciate you inspecting my case. I have moved my creature back into their habitats and I think they are happy to be home. I'm happy to have them back. I realize I probably dote on them too much. I didn't like when they were in the attic and I couldn't carry them to and from work with me. I prefer sitting and working in my shack in the case, then I do at a desk. I know it is very messy but I can find just about everything I need. Having everyone back in their homes makes me wish I could get back out and explore.

Since writing to you last I have been wondering about my own future. Do I want to stay at the Ministry? Do I want to stay in England? I think all these things are going to be up in the air for me for a while. There are times I wish things could go back to how they were before everything with Grindelwald, in regards to my work at the Ministry.

As you know, I'm not exactly what you would call a popular person. Small talk makes me uncomfortable. Most people find me and my company disquieting. I also dislike social situations where there is a hidden agenda, everyone knows something that none of us are supposed to talk about. So, I have been living in a small personal nightmare since the Ministry is constantly expecting me to be present at different events.

It started small, I was invited to a Wizengamot event by the Minister of Magic himself. I tried to reject his invitation however, it turns out I was unable to as this was technically part of my responsibilities as a ministry employee. Funny how before my trip to America, no one cared if I attended events or not. My brother, Theseus, was also in attendance. However, he wasn't made to come out of work responsibilities, he attends because he enjoys it. As you know, my brother is an acclaimed war hero. He served our country honorably and therefore he is often parade around in front of diplomats and wizarding officials. He is the perfect example of the English Gentleman, he plays quidditch, fought in the war, smiles very well on command and can talk to almost anyone about anything. He is always the prefect level of polite.

Of course, it was a big to-do having both Scamander brothers present. One a national hero, the other assisted in the capture of Grindelwald abroad. The British newspaper, The Daily Prophet, grossly exaggerated the whole story. People have been expecting me to be heroic like my brother, to bravely face Grindelwald, however most of those stories never report that we thought we were fighting Mr. Graves, MACUSA auror. No one mentions that we were fighting to save a young man's life, and that we lost. Of course that doesn't sell newspapers, but the Scamander brothers do. I have included a clipping for you from the article after this event. My mother sent the clipping to me but I think I would rather you have it. Supposedly my mother thinks that I look very nice in the picture.

The affair took place at the Malfoy Manner. They are a rather slimy, overly important wizarding family, if I am going to be frank. They are an old family who have made their opinions of magic lineage very important. Everyone in their family is pure blood, everyone in their social circles are pure blood. I have met a lot of these people when I worked in the "House-elf Relocation" office at the ministry of magic. They were always sending people, because they would never come themselves, in to ask about the best and most obedient house-elves. However, even house-elves talk, and word around the kitchens is that the Malfoy family is very strict with their house-elves and liberal with their punishments. These people have lots of money, lots of connections, and of course, always willing to host an event for a good cause. However, I am not really sure what the cause of this event was.

Frankly, the whole thing was horrible. I would have rather spent the night in the MACUSA jail again then attend that a party like that again. I had to wear my dress robes, which I think I wore once to my cousin's wedding. My mother had the never to tell me that I couldn't wear my boots to such a prestigious event, she had ordered me new shoes. My mother hasn't cared about my appearance since I was removed from Hogwarts, and now as a grown man, she cares. Of course, I couldn't even take Pickett with me even though I really wanted to. It would have been nice to have a friend there. The only comfort I was permitted was that I wore the socks you made me. I was very thankful to have them.

The whole event was very fancy. The house elves were serving shrake roe caviar. A shrake is a spine covered fish that is native to the Atlantic Ocean. It swims at immense depths and can only be caught at specific times of the year, which is why it is a delicacy. It is also very difficult to filet, since the whole body is pretty much incased in spikes. Interestingly enough, shrake roe does not have the standard fishy flavor that you would expect. It has more of a metallic taste, like copper. It is served on little crackers and drizzled in honey. The honey off-sets the extreme acidity of the shrake roe. This was the highlight of my evening.

People would occasionally ask me about my book, but when I started to talk to them about it, they appeared bored and made excuses to leave. People wanted me to keep retelling my account of the Grindelwald capture, however most were disappointed to find out that it was less of an epic show down dual and more of good team work and the quickness of the Swooping Evil. One person even asked me what if felt like to be tortured by Grindelwald himself. (I told him I didn't recall, and my brother thankfully distracted them.) Almost no one was interested in the situation with Credence. The only person who showed any signs of listening was my brother and the occasional house elf who was serving nearby. When Theseus and I were alone that night he ask me why I had never told him personally about what happened in New York. He said he had never heard about the torture, or the international wizarding delegation, or the poor boy Credence. I told him that was because he never seemed interested in anything I had to say before so I did not want to bother him. He actually looked thoughtful for a moment, which I was probably imagining.

Madam Picquary was in attendance and she was very polite. She made a show of thanking me for assisting her aurors in front of as many people as she could. She inquired politely about my book, and how my case was. When I asked her about you and how you were doing in your auror position, she said you were doing well. Then moved off to speak with someone else. Theseus, who I introduced to Madam Picquary, was curious about you and kept peppering me with questions the rest of the evening.

I will say one advantage to having my brother present was that he is still significantly more well-known than I am. I stuck by him for the majority of the evening and deflected most of the questions for me, towards him. Honestly, I think he was actually intentionally trying to help me. Sometimes I am slightly jealous of your relationship with your sister. I have never been that close to anyone before, not my brother and not any friends. I should say, I have not been close to a human like that. However, with my creatures, I am completely accepted. They don't care how I dress, or what is the most current topic of wizarding world gossip, they just appreciate me for what and who I am.

Of course when that horrible evening ended, I was invited to another event, which I was thankfully able to decline the invitation. Thankfully I have a Mooncalf who is expected to give birth that weekend. However, I have now been invited to three more of those dreadful events. I am ready to go back into the field and research if this is the life I am going to lead in London. Theseus said that eventually I will stop being the talk of the town, and that soon the invitations will dwindle. I reminded him that the war ended in 1918 and he was still being invited to events, to which he said that he was significantly more famous then I was. I hope he is right.

I do not think I will attend any event without my brother, if I am going to be forced to go. Selfishly, I wish you could attend with me. I think it would be easier to handle the people if I had you with me. You so fearlessly entered the Blind Pig and dealt with the magical underworld, and this is pretty much the same thing. The only differences are; the music was better at the Blind Pig and the deals are done under the table at these big formal events. I know you would be invaluable in either situation.

Tina, this might be forward, and forgive me if it is untoward, but I do miss you. I wish I could speak to you in person. During the day, I have several thought that I wish I could get your opinion on. I wonder 'what would Tina say about how this section is written?' and 'I wonder how Tina would handle a Nundu escape?' Sometimes in the evening, after all my creatures have eaten and I am eating alone, I wish I could be eating with you, your sister and Jacob again. I was so worried and distracted the first time we all ate together that I missed the real experience of eating with others. Now I find myself looking back and trying to remember.

Please forgive me for an embarrassment that last passage might have caused. I think I must be tired.

I was very pleased to hear you liked the brooch. I did not put any additional charms on it but I wonder if the extra confidence might come from a blending of the different shield spells. The brooch is, indeed, a badger. While I was at Hogwarts I was in the Hufflepuff house and the badger was our mascot. It is strange when you think about it that a magical school only has non-magical mascots. The Hufflepuff house is known of it loyalty, willingness to work hard and its commitment to justice. I know that I cannot properly sort you, but I think that you would fit in wonderfully with us Hufflepuffs. The badger itself is a very tough creature. They are typically calm, however are able to take on opponents twice their size when threated. They are very tough and resourceful. I hope you don't mind that I dub you an honorary Hufflepuff, it just seemed so fitting know that I know you.

Tina,

Affectionately yours,

Newt

Tina held Newts letter in her hand for a long time after reading. She was tucked in bed, with Queenie in the bed across from her asleep. When she and Queenie came in from searching for Jacob today, a letter was waiting for her. However, it was already late, they still needed to cook dinner and Tina needed to bathe before she got an opportunity to open the envelope. All during dinner the unread letter was in the back of her mind. Every time she received a letter from Newt, she felt lighthearted, nervous, embarrassed and pleased all at once. She thought for a moment she might be getting a cold, or she might be in love, she thought off-handedly.

'In Love?' She thought, flushing to herself. 'Is this what love feels like?' she questioned. She was thankful that Queenie was asleep with her back towards her, because she knew that her mind would be too rich and tempting not to read right now. She took a few deep breaths. She looked back at her sister, if Queenie would have been awake, she would have asked her how her love for Jacob felt. However, that just seemed to personal a question. She looked back at the letter in her hands, if this was love, what was she supposed to do.

Suddenly she was scared. What if Newt didn't love her back? What is they were just good friends? Yes he called her "Dear Tina" and signed his letter "Affectionately Yours", but was he really hers? Was that just his way of saying bye? There was a strange sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. What if she said it to him and he didn't say it back? He said he missed her. He said he admired her. She flushed remembering that part of his letter. He missed her and he thought about her during the day, but did that mean he loved her? Maybe he just held her in high esteem because she was a capable auror. What if she was just a passing fancy? Newt had written about the fear that came with trusting your love to someone. Was he trying to tell her something? Or was she just reading into a nice comment about her sister and Jacob?

She saw the folded scrap of newspaper in her lap. This must be the newspaper clipping sent her. She unfolded the paper and read the small article.

"Scamander Brothers attend Wizengamot Charity Ball"

Saturday evening the dashing Scamander brothers showed up to Malfoy manor dressed to the nines. Theseus Scamander, decorated war hero, brought his brother, Newton Scamander to the annual Wizengamot Charity Ball, this year's proceeds are being donated to the London Magical Orphanage fund. Newton Scamander has recently been in News of his part in capturing Grindelwald in New York. Supposedly he bravely fought Grindelwald want to wand. When we asked him how he accomplished such a feat he said that he had the pleasure of working with a brilliant American auror. He is a very modest man.

As expected Theseus was the life of the party, he danced all evening and even took a turn with Madam Picquary, the MACUSA president. When asked about the dance he replied "I will always dance with a beautiful women." The Scamander brothers looked dashing in their robes, Theseus wearing the newest style dark green dress robe while Newton wore a more classic style in a deep blue. Ladies of London, be on the lookout, the Scamander brothers are out and about this season."

Below the small article was a picture of Newt and his brother. Tina eyes searched the picture, taking in every detail they could. He stood next to his brother looking nervous toward he viewer. She saw his chin was still pointed down with his hair falling into his eyes. He looked up every one and a while and nodded to the viewer. He looked exactly the same. She didn't know what she was expecting, of course he looked the same. It had only been a few months. She noted the dress robes and missed his thin bow tie. She thought he looked slightly uncomfortable, however, if she had not known him, she would have just thought he was shy.

After several minutes of staring at Newt, she noticed his brother. He was not as tall as Newt, however he looked significantly more comfortable in his dress robes. He stood smiling and waving politely to the viewer. He looked like he could have stared in silent pictures. His dark hair was swept back and his dark eyes looked very clear. However on closer inspection she could see similar features between the two. They had the same chin and the same jaw line, however Newt looked like the better person. It was hard to explain but something just seemed a bit off about his brother.

"Newton" she whispered out loud. That didn't suit him, not the way Newt did. Nothing about this article suited him. Of course the whole affair made him uncomfortable. However, she noted, he was very handsome. The article never said he danced with anyone, would he dance with her?

She flushed looking back at his letter and smiling to herself. Maybe he didn't love her now, but maybe one day he would. She settled back in bed to reread her letter. This time she allowed herself to hang onto all the things he wrote that made her feel special. Phrases like; "I know you would be invaluable", "wants to surprise you", "I admire you" and "I do miss you" floated around her thoughts until she finally drifted off to sleep.

Little did she know, that Queenie was wide awake, smiling like a fool at her sister's new found love.


	9. Chapter 8

January 30th, 1927

Dearest Newt,

Thank you for the newspaper clipping with your last letter. I have to agree with your mother, I think you look quite handsome. It was nice to see you in your dress robes but I think I prefer your standard attire better. I don't think dress robes would be very good for field work. I can't imagine that Pickett would like it as much either. For some reason, I was surprised when I saw your picture. It was like I was expecting you to be different, but you were just the same, and I was very pleased to see that. It's also funny how we can start to forget things too. I had forgotten just what you hair looked like and how you wear it. I had forgotten what you looked like in different ways and it was a bit upsetting. It's only been a few months since I have seen you, and here I am already forgetting.

I am also very happy to hear that you are still enjoying the socks I made you.

I do not envy that situation you have been put in with the Ministry and these "events" you have to go to. I wish I had some words of wisdom for you. However, I have never been in that situation before. Any fancy government events in the US are for the wealthy and the higher ups in MACUSA. A lowly auror/ once-wand-permit-official, would never be invited. So I can't really offer advice, but I can offer my sympathies especially if you would have rather spent another night in jail then attending that party.

I will say, comparing it to a night in jail does not entice me to want to attend these kind of event, even if you said you wished I was there. I am kidding, for you I would go. I am strangely flattered that you think I would do well with the seedy upper-crust of British wizarding society. I would probably only feel confident enough to step foot in there if you were with me. Even the Bling Pig situation was a bit nerve wreaking. Everyone had their eyes on us, and it was 3 wizards and a no-maj against a den of people who hated me. Honestly, I think Jacob did the best out of all of us. I'll tell you a secret, when I am having a bad day, I just think about Jacob punching Gnarlak. There was something really beautiful about that to me. Here, the whole time I was worried about bring a no-maj into a magical crime den, and he is the one who actually inflicted some damage.

Maybe you have to see going to these events like Jacob at the Blind Pig. No one there has any expectation of you coming out alive. Well, don't you think you should pull a Kowalski and come out victorious?

I would also like to point out that while the event was just tolerable, good things came out of it. Now you have had a first-hand experience eating shrake roe, how often would you get to eat that? Also you spent some quality time with your brother. It really does seem like he might be interested in being your friend, as well as your brother.

We have been writing about our changing futures, our jobs, where we might live, and well maybe this is your chance to change your future with your brother. Maybe this is your time to become friends. Even if you don't become best friends, it seems like you bit be going to these events for a bit, so might as well make the best out of them.

However, you wrote that one of the mooncalfs was going to have a pup, or would it be a calf? Would it be called a mooncalf calf? Either way, how was the birth? Do mooncalfs have single off-spring or litters? I have heard so little about your creatures lately, is everything okay? How has work been other than your events?

As for your book, I am sorry to hear that your editor is being hard on you. However, I have to agree with him. You are very smart, and it can be a bit hard to follow sometimes. That doesn't mean it's a bad thing thought, it's the opposite. It's a great thing you are so knowledgeable, but just write like you are writing to me. You explained so well about runespoors and clabberts in your previous letters. Just imagine you are writing every section of your book to explain something to me. I'm smart, but I'm not an expert. The goal should be after reading your book people should become closer to being an expert.

Have I told you how excited I am for your book to be published? If not, let me tell you, I am very excited. Years of hard work will soon be paid off. I am also looking forward to seeing you. Maybe that is my selfish moment for the day. I am excited for you to finish your book so you can come back to New York and you can see the city properly, with me.

Do you have plans for Valentine's day? I know it is a few weeks off, but I was just curious. I will probably be working. Will you be out with someone?

Queenie hopes to have found Jacob by Valentine's, and I think we are getting closer. We have narrowed our search to the lower east side. That is where Jacob was living when we first met. We started there a few weeks ago, but we found nothing. However, it turns out that Jacob had been approved for a loan through the Steen National Bank, even though it took a bit longer then we expect. The only information Queenie could get was that it's going to be on the lower east side.

Since we started working together Queenie and I aren't closer than we were before, but it's a different kind of closeness. I think for the first time we are together as equals. This might sound strange but sometimes I felt like we were trying to be the protectors for each other. It was as if we had a symbiotic relationship, and one couldn't survive without the other. We needed each other. Now, we don't need each other and it is allowing us a different level of closeness. It is very nice.

I have been meaning to tell you! I did it. I adopted two kneazles from an old informant I met through Gnarlak. This guy adopts and houses abandoned creatures. MACUSA tends to turn a blind eye to him since he is just an old man with a house full of kneazles, crups, puffskein and the occasional augurey. Really, he is doing MACUSA a favor by keeping them off the streets. Every few months I swing by his place to make sure he is doing okay and to help him reinforce the wards on this house. However, this time I asked him if I could adopt two kneazles and bring them to work for me at MACUSA.

He thought about it and said he had two kneazles he thought would be prefect for the job. Both are very mangy gents. One is gray with a white spot under his chin that looks like a bow tie and the other is striped gray and white. At first I doubted if they would be good creatures to bring into the ministry. However, when I explained to them what I was looking for (do Kneazles understand English?) they looked very determined to come with me. I said clearly that I was looking for covert creatures who were smart enough to sniff out questionable people. They needed to be sly, and quick-witted. They could have free reign over MACUSA as long as they worked to stay out of sight. I also told them there would always be food if they were interested. The both seemed very interested, or at least that is what I assumed from the swish of their tails.

I did get the appropriate licenses for owning kneazles in New York, too. Of course it was very easy to get those licenses since there is a witch in that department that owes me a favor. I took them into the lower levels of MACUSA and had small ID badgers made for their collars. Gatsby and Boots are now official members of the MACUSA investigative department. Before you ask, no I did not get permission to implement this change. I saw a need and addressed it. It has been a week since they have been on staff and amazingly enough, they seem to go unnoticed. Does kneazles have the ability to disillusion themselves? If people do notice them, they seem to assume they have been here the whole time.

Just yesterday in the elevator Gatsby got in with me, Red and a whole group of permit witches. Only Red noticed. He asked me what was up with the kneazles, he has seen two and felt like they had something to do with me. Red and I don't typically get along. I find him to be abrasive at times. However, I told him the truth. That I got those kneazles to find rats in MACUSA and not just the four legged kind. He stood there watching Gatsby walk out of his elevator towards the obliviation bureau. It was a surprise when he told me he thought it was a great idea, and that if this was a secret then he would keep it. If anyone asked him, he'd say we had kneazles for years. He told me that he didn't feel that MACUSA was taking our security seriously. Queenie wasn't the only employee to quit since November and that the Goblins community is concerned.

That hasn't been the only strange thing about work lately. The creature cases have temporarily stopped but I think that is because the Body for the Protection of Magical Species complained to Madam President that they did not like being cut out of their own cases. I just happened to let it slip to the head of their department that so many creature cases have come my way. I had been down to their floor to consult with them about the clabberts and fire crabs situations.

I might be paranoid by I feel like Madam Picquary might intentionally be pushing me to the edge. She has assigned an auror-in-training to me. She said that since I was one of the most 'famous' aurors in the department right now, that I shouldn't have any problems with him tagging along. This young man, William Bricks, or Billy as he likes to be called, is nice enough. He comes from the Detroit MACUSA branch. That branch does a fair bit of black market, underground investigations too. It's easy to smuggle magical good from Canada into the USA from there. It makes sense that he is assigned to me, even if I don't like it.

I know his job is to follow me around, but he asks a lot of questions. Which, I realize in retrospect is his job, but I guess I am just used to staking out and investigating things alone. You know, here we are staking out apothecaries, trying to crack down on this runespoor egg case and he just keeps asking why I am doing what I am doing.

Why am I sitting down watching instead of standing? Why did I choose this spot over another? Why do I wear pants? Do I have a preferred lunch spot? Do all aurors take notes with pen? What are my leads? Why do I think this apothecary is different from the one down the street? How do I know that this place has black market affiliations?

As I took the time to explain to him why I was doing the things I was doing, our lead got away. It was very annoying. The kid is also clumsy, when I went into the apothecary to see if I could gather some information, he knocked over a container of pig eyes. It was not a good day.

It looks like I am going to be stuck with Billy for a while. I understand that most satellite branches send their aurors here to train but I wish I would have been left out of it. I think I would rather go to your charity events then spend another day minding Billy Bricks. I feel terrible even saying, he isn't a bad kid, just bothersome. He bought me a hot dog to make up for the pig eye incident, as we are calling it. I tried to take the time and explain everything to him in detail. Why I choose the places I choose. Why I wear the clothing I wear. How I got the information I had. Why I used a pen instead of a quill. He took it all in stride and I told him that I would be happy to answer questions but just not in the middle of a situation.

He isn't a bad kid. I guess, it's just the last time I worked with someone it was you. I guess in a way, being around him makes me miss you.

Affectionately Yours,

Tina.

* * *

Newt smiled a deep smile as he finished Tina's letter. He leaned back in his chair feeling better. He didn't understand why but he knew getting letters from Tina made him feel better. For the first time, in a very long time, Newt had a friend that was a human. Not since Hogwarts did he feel like he had a friend and when he recalled how that turned out, he didn't like to think of it.

He knew he was past the Leta Lestrange part of his life. He rarely ever thought of her. Her picture which was once in his shack had been replaced with a muggle picture instead. Honestly, in his daily life, she didn't exist. However, when he was the Wizengamot party with his brother, he was afraid to that she would be there. A side of him wondered how he would respond to seeing her. Would they carry on as if nothing had happened between them? Would she ignore him and pretend he was never there? He didn't know which option would hurt him more. All he did know was that if Tina was with him, he'd be fine.

Newt paused, and searched for the phrase that gave him a feeling of light-headedness.

There is was. Tina had written "We have been writing about our changing futures, our jobs, where we might live…" He reread it again, and again. He knew that she meant "we" as in "you and I", however the first time his eyes came across it he thought she meant it in the sense of their mutual plans together. 'We' he thought. He had never been part of a 'we', only an I. Only as himself. Even with Leta he was always himself. However with Tina, could they be more?

Where would they live? Would they get married? Newt had never thought of himself as the type of person to get married. However the prospect didn't seem so bad if it was with Tina. Tina, who would go to terrible charity events with him, just because he asked. Tina, who thought carefully about everything Newt said. At the Wizengamot charity event, so many people asked him about his book, about his work, but no one really listened. Tina, she always listened. She asked questions. She was wonderful.

He shook himself. It was stupid to waste time fumbling over the different interpretations of the words "we" and "our". He would literally be sitting here all night contemplating what she meant if he let himself. I side of him liked the possibility of contemplating a future with Tina with all night, but he needed to focus.

He reread the section on Billy Bricks, feeling concerned. A clumsy, barely trained auror would be following Tina around New York for an indefinite amount of time. 'Well, that can't be safe' he thought. Tina need someone teamed up with her, who could keep up. Otherwise they would both be in danger. Tina needed someone like him, he thought, blushing madly. Something else turned in his stomach about the idea of Billy Bricks following Tina around and buying her hot dogs. He couldn't place it, but he really didn't like it.

Shifting his focus to more pleasant topics Newt started to re-scan the letter. "So, Tina adopted kneazles." He said aloud to himself. Pickett squeaked back from him pocket, where he had been resting most of the day. However, Pickett liked Tina, and pestered Newt to know what her letters said.

As the Bowtruckle hoisted himself on Newt's shoulder, Newt noticed Dougal had come into his shack to see him. He also seemed interested in the fact the Newt had a letter. Smiling he read it out loud to them.

On this reread, he notices a change. He had become "Dearest Newt" while before he was just "Dear Newt." He flushed but read on.

He could feel his face grow warmer as he continued to read. By the time he had read the last line "…being around him makes me miss you", he felt like he had run a marathon. His face was flush and his heart was beating hard. Something about reading her letter out loud to others made it even more personal, and it made him want to protect the content of the letter more. Even if they were just magical creatures, he knew they understood him and he didn't want to seem weak in front of them.

Dougal's hand found its way into Newt's. The demiguise squeezed his human friend's hand in a comforting and understanding way. He looked up at Newt with big doe eyes, and Newt knew that everything was going to be okay.


	10. Chapter 9

AN: Sorry about the delay in updating, I was traveling in the wilds of Arizona for a week. Expect more frequent updates. Also thank you so much for all the lovely reviews.

* * *

February 5th, 1927

Dearest Tina,

Your most recent letter, like all of your other letters, has been the bright spot in my increasingly dull and dreadful week at work. Just this morning a new stack of folders was set on my desk for 'creature review.'

Creature review is the simple, but time consuming, task of reading over case files from other areas of the ministry. The whole point of the review is to see if there was any unnoticed creature activity that might have been missed by the unit receiving the case. An example I had this week was a man is illegally growing a wizard-made hybrid of the dirigible plum. These plums before they are ripe are bright green and for some reason highly explosive after being picked, which children in his neighborhood loved. As they made a big scene of lobbing the exploding plums at each other. It wasn't until one of the children came home coated in an extremely sticky and powerfully scented goo that these illegal plums were reported to the ministry.

The Department of Agriculture and Growing Regulations launched an investigation shutting down, and promptly ended, his plum growing. This has nothing to do with my department at all, however, the file needed to be reviewed. The only slightly magical creatures-based thing was the fertilizer he was using to enrich the plum soil.

Not all case reviews are as useless as that one was. In the past we have discovered a hidden breeding colony of digicrawls by reviewing other department's cases. Sometimes even the rare dragon's egg case crosses my desk. However there are more misses then there are hits. Of course, this task should not be falling to me, but our department is currently, and has always been, understaffed. So I end up with these files for review about every week or so. It is one of the least charming aspects of my work. I have been pushing the ministry to expand our department, or at least give us an assistant, however every request gets pushed to the back of his desk.

I'm hoping that with the publication of my book, maybe the Minister would feel compelled to expand our department. I was hoping that my attendance at the last charity event would sway the man a bit, but alas, nothing has come from it. Well, nothing has come from it except more invitation to more events. The Minister seems to be making it clear that if I want more staff in my department I need to attend more parties.

There isn't a shortage of parties either. The Minister has been asking me more and more to attend events and I tell him that I need to check my calendar before I let him know since my book is just about done with the first round of edits. However, I am actually checking my brother's calendar to see if he is attending any of these event. I would rather review all the creature cases alone then attend more parties then I need to.

I think you are right, that I should use this time to reconnect with my brother. Our parents invited us home for tea over the weekend and we had a nice, and rather enlightening, chat about the charity events he typically attends and several other things. He gave me some pointers on how to be a better and more comfortable guest. Such as find the grumpiest, oldest, looking man at the party and talk with him, chances are he doesn't want to be there either and is looking for someone to have a "real conversations." The advantage is, by talking to him you appear to have excellent manners but you also will learn something new. Also to always compliment something the hostess is wearing. She will inevitably tell you that is an old dress or trinket, or a family heirloom, however the compliment should still be delivered. The last bit Theseus suggested was that if you don't want to dance, do not stand alone to the side. If you are standing alone and you look like even a remotely reasonable young man, someone will try to get you to dance with their; daughter, sister, niece, cousin, cousin's eldest daughter, and so on.

There are a lot of stupid seeming rules of all this nonsense. Frankly, I don't mind dancing, I would just prefer not to do it surrounded by strangers who are going to judge my social graces on it.

Something that also makes me anxious about these charity events is who might I meet there. You know that I was expelled from school, and frankly that reputation has not been forgotten. Some people do not seem me as a hero (which I am not), but see me as an unchecked danger. Not only am I being judged by my social graces but also by my past. So few people actually know about the real reason from my expulsion from Hogwarts that it just doesn't seem right that it is used against me. Additionally, I'm worried that parts of my past I am not ready deal with are going to appear in front of me at one of these events. I know it is pointless to worry about these things, as worrying only makes you suffer twice. However, it is nice to have someone I can confide these thoughts too.

My brother agrees with you, in the sense, that I should be using those events to push my 'agenda'. I asked him what my agenda was, because I honestly did not think I had one. However, he asked me why I was writing my book in the first place.

Then it made sense I want to inform witches and wizards about magical creatures. I want to show them they are worth protecting and knowing about. It is amazing how thick-headed I can be sometimes. Theseus said that I should be using every opportunity at these events to tell people about my own experiences with magical creatures. However, he also suggested that I should also be curating my stories that I tell people.

'Maybe don't tell them that you were almost drown by a kelpie, as exciting as the story is, it only teaches them to fear the unknown. Why not tell them how to spot a kelpie? Or about the research being done with dragon by-products? Or how school of ramora protected a fishing vessel during the Great War.'

I am guilty, as I think everyone is at times, at telling the more exciting and dangerous tales first. Those are one in which I do more rapid discovery of a creature. Those are the cases I am most proud of, so I want to tell them first. However, Theseus is right, those stories tend to be scarier and less well received by people at fancy parties looking for causes to support.

I liked the phrase you used 'pulling a Kowalski' when you don't want people to underestimate you. I think that I am going to use that when I finally agree to start going to those events again. Socially, I am not the most-well versed or even that well received. People get bored just after a few moments and I won't allow that to happen. For the sake of my creatures, I shall try harder.

It sounds like you are 'pulling a Kowalski' yourself at work. I love that you have kneazles in MACUSA, and I think I will use that when I suggest it to the Ministry again. If MACUSA is using kneazles, why aren't we? I am not surprised that most people haven't noticed them. Kneazles have an excellent sense of direction and once they have the layout of a place, they can figure out how to get around practically unseen. Typically people who aren't looking for them, don't see them. Kneazles really are a great creature, someday, I hope to have several.

I also think that it was wise that you hinted to another department that you think you are getting their assignments. It really is careless of your president to give you cases that should be going to your Protection of Magical Species department. Those individuals should be trained to deal with those situations better then you are.

How is the runespoor egg case going? I just want to suggest that your practice caution on this case. Especially since it seems you have been assigned a trainee. I will admit that a side of me is uncomfortable with you babysitting this Billy Bricks kid. It seems like a major restriction on your work. Is he with you all day? Everyday? I just want to encourage caution. You must think I am like a mother-hen the way I constantly writing and asking you to stay staff. I feel like a hypocrite saying this to you, since my own work can be dangerous at time, but please be careful with work. I have a bad feeling about how things are going at MACUSA.

Also, I do have a bit of exciting new. There was a new mooncalf born several days ago, and I can report that she is doing very well. Her mother had a hard birth, as it was her first pup. Yes they are called pups for the sake of simplicity, calling it a mooncalf calf would become very confusing after a while. Mooncalf's typically only have one pup at a time. Sometimes, albeit very rarely a mooncalf will give birth to two pups at once.

As for the rest of the creatures in my case, everyone is doing very well. I have been looking for a male erumpent in captivity to breed my female erumpent with. Erumpents have long mating seasons which typically last a year, however, after that mating season, it is typically several years before they are in heat again. I have been trying to get in touch with any African game parks, however I have not had any luck. There are a stunning shortage of magical public zoos right now, since it is still in vogue to have private zoos. However private zoos tend to be poorly kept and the creatures just are not treated the way that they should be. I would be loath to mate my erumpent with a private zoo's erumpent (if any of them had erumpents) since they would attempt to claim ownership on the offspring.

I have other really exciting News, my book is scheduled to be published in May, which means that come June 1st I should be sailing towards you. I too am looking forward to exploring New York with you. It would be lovely to actually see the city and not have to worry about it being destroyed as we go. Last time I was in America, my intention was to travel to Arizona right away. However, I would still like to see that part of the country. I was curious if you might be interested in traveling with me?

I will be excited to, hopefully, see Jacob when I am in New York. How has the search been going since it is almost Valentine's day?

Speaking of the holiday, Tina, please do not think this is too forward, but, would you consider being my Valentine? I've never asked someone to be a valentine before so I am not quite sure of the appropriate steps. In a strange way it is kind of funny, I have mastered the erumpent mating dance, but I don't know the proper way to ask a lady to be a valentine.

Theseus suggested that I send you a token of my affection. However, I didn't know what to send you. I walked through Diagon Alley trying to find something appropriate. I know this is probably not the traditional valentine's gift but I thought it was fitting. I found it at a children's shop and made some adjustments to it. I hope it is to your liking.

Your Valentine?

Newt

* * *

Tina unwrapped the small brown paper package that was sitting in her lap. Inside was a small stuffed niffler. The body of the little creature fit in the palms of both of her hands. She laughed as she saw its dark fur and tiny billed face. She simply loved it, nothing could have been more appropriate. She rubbed the creature against her cheek and smiled at herself. When pulled the tiny plush fellow away from her check she saw that hanging from his pouch was a tiny gold chain with a small crystal heart hanging from it. She tugged on the chain, it was been sewn into the pouch. Tina wondered if this was the small alteration Newt had made to the small creature before he sent it.

Tina couldn't help but break out into a full smile. She was sitting on her bed with the sliding doors to her and Queenie's bedroom slightly closed. Queenie was in the other room cooking dinner. They had come back from another night searching for Jacobs and found a small package from Newt. Queenie insisted her sister open it in privacy. Tina rubbed the small niffler to her face and was appreciative of the suggested privacy.

She reviewed Newt's letter, occasionally pausing during the letter to pet her stuffed niffler. In her last letter she wrote "Dearest Newt." She was curious if he had noticed when he got that letter, but she could tell by him writing back "Dearest Tina", that he did indeed notice. Did he write 'Dearest' back because he felt that way about her? Or was he just being polite and following her lead?

Tina paused at a passage. "Additionally, I'm worried that parts of my past I am not ready deal with are going to appear in front of me at one of these events." She frowned, did he mean Leta Lestrange? It made sense that he might run into her at a party. She knew a bit about the Lestrange family, specifically that in while they were in the United States they were to be kept under observation. She happened to come across the Lestrange file the other day in the Investigation Team's archives. There wasn't much in there other than a few redacted documents.

She sighed and looked back at her niffler. She suddenly felt better. Leta Lestrange never received a Valentine 's Day gift from Newt, but she did. He even said in his letter that he had never give a gift before. Leta Lestrange did not get lovely letter from Newt either, neither did the Countess. Just her.

Just her. Feeling suddenly better, she picked up her new niffler and went to show Queenie. Now all she needed to do was figure out what to send Newt back.


	11. Chapter 10

AN: Sorry for the delay. While this chapter is not in my typical style, I hope you enjoy it. Please review and follow!

* * *

Newt rarely came home for lunch during the work day. However, since his trip to America, he had been politely forbidden from bring his case to work. While he understood the ministry's reasoning, (can't have a beast run wild through the Ministry) it did make parts of his life significantly more inconvenient. Since his last letter to Tina, two other mooncalf's had given birth. So the last week and a half he had been going home during his lunch hour to check on the mothers and pups.

'Since my last letter to Tina…' he thought to himself sadly as he climbed out of his case. He wrote to her on the 5th and he had yet to hear back from her. Valentine's day had come and gone without a single word. Maybe he had rushed it, it might have been too soon in their relationship. 'She might have hated the stuffed niffler.' he told himself.

He didn't know why she had not written back, however he did know that he felt terrible. There was this ache in his chest he couldn't quite explain. Had Tina rejected him? The pain intensified. Did Billy ask her to be his Valentine before him? He felt an uncomfortable rushing in his ears.

No, he reasoned. Tina was a lady and would at least have had the decency to write him back even if she had accepted someone else's offer. He knew that Tina would never intentionally hurt him, she was different then Leta.

Then, why hadn't he heard from her? He took a deep breath and resolved to write her a letter when he got back from work today. There was no point in worrying, he knew that.

As he readied himself to apparate back to work, his concentration was interrupted by a tapping on his window. A large international owl was resting on the outside sill working to get his attention.

'It must be a letter from Tina.' Newt thought as he rushed over to the sill, accepted the letter from the large bird, and then, with less grace then he usually used, tore open the envelope.

* * *

February 17th, 1927

Mr. Scamander,

I know you have been waiting for Teenie's letter and I'm sorry this is the best I can do. However, right now, she isn't really able to write. The thing is, she has been asking for you. She is trying to write to you. I swear, I'm going to include what she has been able to manage.

Please don't be mad at her for taking so long. Please.

I guess I should explain myself better. I'm so sorry about all of this.

Tina got ambushed about a week and a half ago, by some wizards in an underground potion brewing ring. Or at least that is what Madam Picquary told me. They really haven't told me much of anything else. They said it might be goblin related, but there is no proof. I guess, Tina had been tracking this potions ring for a while now and she was getting close to whatever she was supposed to find. She is okay, for the most part, at least physically.

You saved her life. That pin you gave her saved her life. I don't know how to thank you. I will never be able to repay you for your kindness to Teenie. I can't thank you enough.

I'm not sure on all the details, I'm sure when she is fully recovered we will both know all about it. I can't even read her mind most of the time. However she is having terrible nightmares. What I can see, is terrifying.

I guess she and Billy were ambushed one evening on their way back to MACUSA. Tina got Billy out of harm's way. It seems like she was putting up a good fight. Someone shot a killing curse at her and it rebounded. I guess, knowing they couldn't get her from a distance, they changed their tactics. Two people rushed her, and she was over-powered. While she was down, she was stabbed with a poisoned knife.

It was pretty fast acting. Billy blew up a store front to get MACUSA's attention, aurors showed up and got Tina to a hospital really fast. She was under observation for four days and the doctors say she is going to get better, but that the poison has to work its way out of her system of its own. Nothing they tried can extract it. They don't know the poison or the potion that was on the blade. They got her in the ribs, and deep. I think the potion makes her relive her worst memories. She has been mumbling in her sleep, about mom and dad, about Credence, about you.

She has been home the past week, and it's kind of getting better, bit by bit. Teenie never did like hospitals, and the doctors swear that with time she'll be okay. They said she'd do better at home, better in a familiar place. So Billy and I got her home safely. She drifts in an out of consciousness, she is delirious most of the time from fever, but she is always asking about you. That little stuffed niffler you sent her, she keeps it in bed with her. I've read her your letters, over and over again. She keeps the bundled with a ribbon next to her bed. Any time she wakes up and asks, I read them. During the day, I give her paper and pen and she tries to write back to you. I think, she is worried you are mad at her since she never wrote you back. Please don't be mad at her.

Billy comes by every day, says he feels guilty, but I don't know. I can't really get into his mind. He says that people are constantly asking about Tina at MACUSA. I guess she is more popular then she thought, because Billy is always bring meals that people at work are making for her. She can barely eat, if she does, it's only bits at a time. However all the casseroles do help with the cost of food. Tina's not working and neither am I, but I'm sure we are going to be fine. At least we still have each other.

So things are pretty bad out here, Mr. Scamander. I'm sorry for being the bearer of bad news. However, I promise when Tina is better, she'll write back. I know you'll wait for her, but I just wanted you to know. I am sorry it took me so long to write in the first place. It's just been hectic here.

I'm so sorry.

Queenie Goldstein.

* * *

His tears fell on the page as he finished. They left winkled puddles next to, what appeared to be, Queenie's dried tears. He could tell by her uneven writing and the stained paper that she had been crying while writing to him. Of all the strange and intense feelings he had come to feel while writing to Tina, this feeling was unbearable.

It felt like his blood had run cold and there wasn't enough air to fill his lungs. It had started out as a few tears slowly running down Newt's check, which turned into a deep, sorrowful cry. His stomach turned.

He wept because he was worried and scared for Tina. She was somewhere he couldn't be, and he couldn't do anything to help. He was utterly powerless, and with that powerlessness, came a deep swelling feeling of hopelessness. It was as if a bleak depression had taken up residence in his mind. He hadn't felt this way since his expulsion from Hogwarts.

Bumbling Billy Bricks could do more than he could and that angered him. It enraged him, he found himself on his feet, pacing around his apartment. The roaring in his ears was back with full force. Tina was his love, and he wanted to help. He, of all people, should be there! "I shouldn't have been the last to know" he shouted into the silence.

The anger inside of him quickly turned cold, he collapsed into his chair and he wept from shame. Jealously had be eating at him, digging into the back of his brain and nesting. It felt like someone else has been occupying his mind. He didn't like the jealousy creature that had taken residence in his body, he loathed how it made him bitter. He hated that he was cursing a man that he didn't even know because Tina was hurt and he was fine. His jealousy was causing him to have irrational thought. He knew they were irrational, but he couldn't stop them. They rained down before he could stop them. 'It's Billy's fault' he told himself. 'He should have protected her!' 'It was him who should have been hurt, not Tina.' Those hateful thoughts made him cry harder, because it was so unlike his standard self.

A part of him, also wept from relief. He had been so afraid that Tina was mad at him. That sending a gift and asking her to be his Valentine was too much, too forwards, too unlike himself. He felt like he didn't know himself anymore. He thought she was disgusted with him, when she really was fighting for her life. The relief crept back into shame.

He had been here thinking the worst and Tina had been suffering. He cried until he could no longer, and by the time he had calmed down he noticed that Dougal had his head resting on Newt's knee. Newt turned his head and saw that he had left the case open and Dougal must have heard him. His head ached as he looked down at his silvery friend. Dougal pulled himself into Newt's lap, and hugged his human friend tightly.

Newt could feel himself relaxing. The demiguise's hug had a wonderful soothing effect. Newt returned the hug with a sigh. With that sigh, he let the last of his anger and sadness out of his body. Dougal could sense the change him, and he released Newt from his hug. Dougal nodded to a small pile of papers that had been included in Queenie's letter. He turned his doe eyes to Newt, and stared at him with an inquisitive gaze.

Newt fetched himself a glass of water and returned to Dougal to read the small bundle. On closer inspection he saw that they were Tina's letters that Queenie said she included.

* * *

2/10/27

N,

I miss you. I'm sorry.

2/14/27

Newt,

I want to be your valentine.

I want to see you. I wish you were here.

2/16/27

Newt,

I have nightmares about the cell, that night in MACUSA. Every time I sleep, I have nightmares. Everything bad that has ever happened, I see it all over again.

Mom, Dad, poverty, school, demotion, you losing your case, MACUSA cells, nightmares. I'm so tired, but I don't want to sleep. I'm scared. I need you. I'm scared.

* * *

None of the letters were signed. None of them were finished. He could tell by the slant of her writing that she was tired. She had written them while laying down.

Her last letter, which was her longest letter, was obviously written at different times during the day. He could tell because the direction of her writing changed with every sentences.

"I need you."

Newt took a deep breath and stood up. He didn't like to call in favors. He disliked when people around him did. It was the idea that all you needed to do was known the right people to get what you wanted, that he disliked He was very much a believer in hard work, so the very principle bothered him.

However, his principles could wait for another day.

* * *

Minister Tolipan was a well-groomed wizard of 55. His dark hair was slicked backed in the newest fashion and his dress robes were always of the most stylish cut. He wore a fine, large mustache which he kept impeccably groomed. In his opinion he had the finest mustache in all of the European wizarding world. Probably all of the wizarding world, if you asked him.

The minister's office was well decorated. Behind his desk sat a large, impressive dark leather chair which that happened to be the same color as his mustache. In front of his desk were several comfortable looking arm chairs for his guest. The general décor of his office gave off the appearance that he was an educated, and level-headed man. His shelves were covered with richly covered books, that had never been opened and different magical deceives that he had acquired, yet never used. Nothing in his office appearing threatening. However everything looked impressive.

He wasn't the youngest ministry of magic ever, however he prided himself on the fact that, due to his youth, he was likely to be in office a long time. Appearances were important him. He wanted to be seen as 'the people's Minister'. For this reason, he made himself as available as possible. Minster Tolipan's weeks were full of charity event, ground breaking ceremonies, speeches and his daily walk through Diagon Alley. During his walk, members of the public would greeting him, and he made it a point to stop by local stories, make purchases, and greet shopkeepers.

Even at the Ministry he kept his office door open in the morning. He wanted his employees to feel comfortable coming to him with thoughts and comments. He knew how to walk the fine line that most leaders often stumble over, how to appear friend yet stay in command.

So he wasn't surprised when his secretary informed him Newt Scamander was asking of an audience with him. It was often a rule that his afternoons were not to be interrupted, however he had even given the young man permission to enter. He was in the middle of drafting a letter to the Austrian Ministry of Magic. While he typically wouldn't let people interrupt his letter writing, he was trying to get the young man to attend more events on behalf of the Ministry. The last event he attended with his brother brought lots of positive press to the Ministry. He had no idea that when Scamander took a sabbatical to work on his book, that he would bring such fame to his administration. However, Tolipan wasn't going to complain.

The door open and he heard Scamander's footsteps across the floor and stop in front of his desk.

"Scamander, I am not going to give you an assistant for those creature cases." He said not looking up from his desk.

"That is no why I am here sir." Newt responded somewhat dryly. "What does one need to do to get an international portkey?"

Tolipan looked up from his letter slowly, inspecting the young man with his gaze. This was certainly not what he was expecting. The young man before him looked rumpled. While the younger Scamander brother was certainly less fashionable then his brother, the state he appeared in was…rough, to say the least. He could see a bundle of papers in his hand, and that his eyes were red. Could he have been crying?

Tolipan leaned back in his chair, running his hand over his mustache. "That will depends. How quickly do you need it by?"

"Today, if possible. Tomorrow, if it's not." Newt looked at him squarely in the eyes for several moments before looking away. The young man was serious. Tolipan raised his eyebrows. He used to work of the Department of Magical Transportation before he became minister. He knew it was possible to get a portkey, however, not likely.

"Well, an international portkey can take time. The Department of Magical Transportation would need to have approval from the governing body of whatever country you are trying to travel to and that could take several days."

"There should be no reason I won't be approved. Let's just say the Madam Picquary owes me a favor" Newt responded quickly.

"Well, you will also need my approval to travel." Tolipan said to Newt flatly, puffing up his chest a bit.

"I'll clear my calendar for any events you want me to attend." Newt shot back.

"Any events?" inquired the minister.

Newt nodded firmly.

Tolipan looked Newt over once again. Just two weeks ago this young man turned down and any all invitations that came his way. Tolipan knew that social graces were not the young man's strong suit, but the fact that he was will to attend anything any event, piqued his interest. Something in America meant enough to him that Newt would show his hand in the first round. No negations, no haggling, he was going to give the minster exactly what he wanted.

Tolipan had a hunch what this all might be about, since he did keep in correspondence with MACUSA. All the major heads of the international wizarding communities knew about the attack on the American auror who helped capture Grindelwald. At first, everyone was concerned that this attack perpetrated by Grindelwald's followers, however it had been made common knowledge that it was a American related problem. Tolipan knew the girl was in a critical condition several weeks ago. A side of him was surprised that he had not seen young Scamander earlier.

Then it dawned on Tolipan that no one had bothered inform the young man until now. A sense of guilt washed over the Minster. Here, he had known for at least a week that the American auror had been seriously injured and he never thought to tell Newt himself. That would explain the red eyes and disheveled appearance. While Tolipan prided himself on his looks, he wasn't sure he would be able to stay together if anything had happened to his dearest Mary. He knew that he would be beside himself if he found out almost two weeks later if something had happened to his wife and he didn't know about it right away.

Tolipan had already come to his conclusion. He knew that he would assist him. It would not be too hard to call in a few favors in the portkey office.

Silently, he also decided not to force too many events on the young Scamander. He did feel partly responsible for not telling him about the attack himself. He knew that Scamander spoke often, fondly and very highly of the MACUSA auror. However, there was one thing that he needed to know for sure if he was going to help the young man out.

"Is it about a creature?" Tolipan asked careful.

He watched the younger wizard flush and look away quickly.

"No sir." Scamander said firmly.

'So it was about the auror woman'. Tolipan thought to himself.

"I'll see what I can do." He said dismissing the young wizard. When the door behind him closed, the minster set his letter to the Austrian Minister of Magic aside, and started writing several memos. One by one he launched several special orange paper airplanes in the air, all labeled "URGENT".

* * *

By the end of the work day, Newt had a 12 hour portkey to New York in his possession. Someone from the Portkey Office stopped by his office to give him a bent soda bottle cap and the instructions. The portkey would activate a midnight, no matter where he was. It would deposit him in the MACUSA building, where someone would be waiting for him. At noon, London time, the following day, it would activate from his current location, and deposit him in the Ministry's Portkey Office.

Newt didn't know how many charity events, book signing, lectures, tea parties, quidditch matches and favors he had agreed to, he just knew that it was going to be a lot. Even the Malfoy family had difficulties getting an international portkey the same day. However he would worry about his obligations to the Minster when it was time. All that mattered now was getting to Tina, she needed him.

With several hours before the portkey activated, Newt turned his attention to his second very pressing issue. He needed to find someone who would watch his case. That was the stipulation by both the Ministry and MACUSA. Neither would allow him to travel via the portkey with his case. He understood, normal portkey travel was terrible so he couldn't imagine what an international portkey would feel like, let alone what it would do to a magical case of creatures all being contained by charms.

He used the floo network to call Theseus, however he was not home. His house elf informed Newt that his master was expected to be away for several days. Theseus had been invited into the country for a few days with several old war buddies. The house elf offered to contact Theseus directly, however Newt declined. Theseus had been a big help to him as of recently and he didn't want to push more obligations on his brother.

In desperation, he grabbed his case and apparated to Hogsmead.

It had been years since he set foot in Hogwarts castle, however, the only other person Newt felt like he could trust with his case was Professor Dumbledore. He had sent an owl ahead of him, once he landed in Hogsmead, hoping that his old professor would meet in him at the entrance of the great school.

He was pleased, not only to be met at the doors by his former professor, but by how quickly Dumbledore offered to assist him.

"It's no trouble, Mr. Scamander. No trouble at all." He said reassuringly. "Honestly, you are doing me a favor, I have been itching to see inside your case for years now. Now, with mooncalf pups to be tended too, this is the perfect reason." Dumbledore smiled calmly at Newt. That was enough for him.

After a tour through the case, some last minute feedings and some quick instructions, (watch your step, and watch your pockets near the niffler) Newt felt confident that he was leaving the case in capable hands. He checked his pocket watch and saw he an hour and a half until his portkey activated and he did not want to be inside his case when that happened.

After a quick goodbye to Dougal and Dumbledore, who were becoming quick friends, and a small fight with Pickett, in which Newt lost and Pickett was allowed to come along. Newt was ready for his portkey

* * *

It was 6:02pm when Newt landed in New York. He checked his watch as he landed in the center of MACUSA headquarters. It was quiet, as most people had gone home already. Newt could her the lift system running in the massive building, and saw a one or two people walk down the long staircase to the streets of New York.

He felt Pickett quiver in his inside coat pocket. While he felt bad for the small creature, he did warn him that portkey travel was very unpleasant. He put his hand over his chest pocket and applied a small bit of pressure, hoping to calm down his minuscule friend. He looked around, waiting for his escort to appear. He had been told, in no uncertain terms, to wait until someone from MACUSA met him after his portkey. He had been waiting now for almost ten minutes.

While ten minutes did not seem like a long time to wait, he was limited to only twelve hours. His eyes roamed as he waited. Then he saw a black kneazle watching him from across the lobby. Despite the day he was having, he found himself smiling. 'Was this one Gatsby or Boots?' he wondered.

As if able to read his mind the furry creature started to slowly slink its way towards him. Newt was impressed since normally kneazles were more stand-offish then this one. Newt kneeled down and offered an outstretched hand, which was met by a small head butt from approaching kneazles. Newt took a few moments to pet the fine creature, when suddenly the kneazle paused and lifted its head. The small ears of the kneazles twitched. Then, as quickly as it had appeared, it took off running as a young man enter the lobby.

A young handsome man sauntered up to him. "Excuse me, are you Mr. Scamander?" he asked casually.

Newt looked the young man up and down, he was about 23. He wore a pair of baggy legged trousers with a gray, silver and blue argyle knit sweater pulled over his collared shirt. The knot of a dark blue tie sat at his neck. The young man was very fashionable, and he knew it too.

"Yes, Yes I am." He said offering him a hand to shake. Newt felt uncomfortable without the weight of his case in his free hand. "I'm sorry, but you are?"

"I'm William, William Bricks. But everyone calls me Billy. I have been assigned to take to you the Goldstein residence." He said shaking Newt's hand in return.

Newt's eyes widen a little. So this was Billy Bricks.

"Nice to meet you" Newt recovered quickly. "Shall we?"

Newt found Billy to be just as talkative as Tina had describe. Billy talked easily about the cases he and Tina had been working on, as he smoked his thin cigarettes and walked slower the Newt preferred. He pointed out places to Newt that they had gotten lunch, or where he wanted to take Tina out after work, if she ever let him. Billy said that she was always busy after work but he never knew what she was up too and Newt smiled despite himself.

He found his companion very trying. It wasn't just his chatting that was annoying Newt, it was the fact that this Billy Bricks, wasn't a kid at all. Even thought that is how Tina had describe him in her letters. Newt took comfort in the idea that maybe she actually saw him that way. Even if he was a considerably handsome adult. Newt looked down at his watch annoyed it had taken almost 40 minutes to get there, thanks to the slow moving pace of Billy.

"Here it is Mr. Scamander." Said Billy, stopping outside the brownstone. "Just know that they aren't allowed to have men inside. So you'll probably have to wait out here until…."

Newt cut him off. "They already knows I'm here."

He looked up at the second story windows, as the second from the left panel flew up, and Queenie's head popped out.

In the few moments the door before the opened and Newt was ushered in upstairs, he turned back to Billy.

"Also, I have stayed the night here before, so I am very well aware of house rules. Thank you for escorting me over." Newt smiled as smugly as he could before slipped inside the door and it shut firmly behind him.

Billy was left standing at the door sulking. He assumed he would be invited up too but Queenie didn't even look at him to invite him up. He stood in the street looking up at the window for a few minutes afterwards hoping to see something, but Queenie had pulled the curtains shut.

* * *

It was a quarter after seven by the time Newt finally stepped foot into the Goldstein apartment. Newt did a quick glance around the apartment and noticed a few changes since his last visit. While everything appeared the same on the surface, he could see bits of neglect around the apartment. A small stack of mail was forming on a small side table. A small layer of dust over the serving dishes. The pile of darning next to the fire, which was almost empty on his last visit, was noticeably fuller. There was, what appeared to be a small mountain of casseroles under stasis charms on the table. These small things told him that their household was under duress.

However, he did not care about how things looks. He looked at Queenie, seeking permission to enter their room, and she nodded. Newt slide off his overcoat, Picket moved up to his shoulder, and he the set the coat on a kitchen chair. He slowly approached the closed sliding wooden door.

He silently slid the panel of wood back far enough to allow his thin frame to enter. This room had not changed much either. The small bookshelf next to Queenie's bed still had a stack of books on it.

However, Tina's bookshelf, which used to house copies of 'Transfiguration Today' now held a bright yellow Fwoofer feather, a badger brooch, a small stack of newspaper clipping (he could see his own face among them), and a bundle of letters tied together with a blue ribbon.

His eyes drifted from the bookshelf to the owner of said shelf, as he moved farther into the room. There was a chair sitting by the bed already. He wordlessly sat down.

Tina was pale and thin. Pale for even her, he thought. Her face was turned away from him, but he could see beads of sweat on her brow. There was a blue undertone to her skin, and she almost looked like she might be freezing to death. Her dark hair was a mess. It laid splayed across her pillow. He figured it was from her trashing about in her bed from nightmares. Her hands were on the top of her quilt and he could see her hands clenching as she slept. One hand held onto a small stuffed niffler, he felt his chest tighten.

He slipped his left hand into her empty one, and she instinctively squeezed his hand tight. She slowly applied pressure to his palm, squeezing it softly. She was obviously asleep. As she slowly released the pressure on his hand she turned her face towards him. Newt felt a larch in his chest, almost as if he was being transported by portkey all over again. However, he stayed firmly planted in the Goldstein's bedroom.

With a tenderness often reserved for stroking baby birds, Newt carefully pushed her loose hair out of her face with his free hand. Even in complete pain, he thought she looked stunning.

She squeezed his hand tight once more, and he watched her wince, and then relax. She took a deep breath. He could not look away from her. His eyes traced every line of her face, the curve of her cheeks and the swoop of her eyelashes. Newt felt the knot of anxiety in his stomach again. What if she didn't feel the same as he did?

'But she said she needed you' he reminded himself.

'She is also very sick, now' he countered.

'She kept your letters, and your niffler' he shout back.

'She is a polite woman' his inner self fought back.

Queenie slipped into the room now. She stood silently next to Newt for a moment. He knew she could hear him battling within himself, but she said nothing.

"It's been a very slow process." Queenie whisper, as to not startle Newt. "She is getting better, but it is going much slower than anyone expected."

She placed her hand on his shoulder, "I'm glad you're here. I think you will make a different." She smiled down at him softly. This was the first time he had really looked at Queenie since he arrived. She looked thin and worn. Her eyes were swollen and slightly pink, and he cheeks looked almost hollow. He could tell that, despite the pile of food in the living room, she had not been eating well either.

"I know I look tired." She sighed softly. "I am. I can't seem to make any difference. I can barely get her to eat when she is awake. Sometimes she takes two or three bites and falls back asleep. The most she has been awake is 20 minutes before drifting back to sleep. When she is awake, she doesn't say much. She asks for you. She asks to hear your letters. I've given her paper, she tries to write, but now she can barely hold the pen. She is weak and I am worried. Our parents…you know…they got really weak right before they went."

Newt looked away from Queenie's face as her eye's started to well up with tears again.

His own eyes had started to swell, listening to Queenie talk.

"Have you tired hot chocolate?" Newt asked earnestly in a hushed voice, looking back up at Queenie.

"No…I haven't. Should I?" She asked perplexed.

"I have been thinking about your letter since I got it this morning, and you said that Tina has been acting live she is reliving all her worst nightmares. Well, in her letter she listed off several things that were upsetting her and they were all real-life event." Newt continued to whisper. "Well, I spent the afternoon looking up things that cause that kind of reaction. I didn't review any standard potions or poisons because the medical witches and wizards would have checked for that already. And I am starting to think that it might not have been a poison or potion at all, but some kind of dementor by-product. Do you know what a dementor is?"

Queenie nodded fearfully. Newt could tell by her face, she knew.

"Well, it's just a hunch, because I really do not know what by-product it is or could be. However, I think that it might be distilled dementor breath, which is very expensive. It is a pretty rare substance, as someone has to collect enough air from around a dementor to distill. As most people know prolonged exposure to dementors can cause madness, so it is not easy to come by. Additionally the best time to bottle the breath would be when a dementor is ready to give its kiss. So whoever is collecting it, cannot be the person receiving the kiss. However, I think that is what is making her relive the terrible moments in her life. Chocolate is supposed to make a difference in reviving someone from the effects that dementors have on people. I think we should try it." Before Newt had finished his small lecture, Queenie was already on her way into their kitchen.

Several minutes later she was back with cup of warm cocoa.

"We'll have to wait for her to come around to drink some." Queenie whispered to Newt. Silently he got out his wand and have his hands a quick and silent 'scourgify'. He dipped his index finger into the hot cocoa and gently put his finger between her slightly parted lips, coating her lower lip in the liquid. Tina responded by unconsciously licking her lips. Newt dipped his finger back into the mug and repeated the process.

Newt whispered "this is an old trick to use when any newborn that is having a hard time eating. Instinctively they will lick their lips and suckle."

Queenie watched him. She was amazed that it was working, but she was almost a bit embarrassed by the intimacy of the act. Queenie wasn't surprised that Newt didn't seem to understand how this behavior was very personal and private. Newt probably had no idea that this was something most people didn't do. How would he know?

"Even if we can just get a tiny bit into her system, it might start to make a difference." Newt continued to slowly feed Tina bit by bit. Queenie left the mug behind with Newt and went to heat up some dinner.

She watched him from the door for a few minutes. She had been working really hard to stay out of his mind since he got there. She knew it bothered him and she was really trying to respect that with both him and Tina.

However, when she heard his mind calling for her from outside, she almost fainted. She doubted that he would be there when she opened the window, yet there we was. He had come all the way for Tina. Queenie, for the first time in weeks, felt like things might finally be okay. She was overwhelmed, tired and scared. Billy came by, but she didn't really trust him. She couldn't get into his head, even though she tried. She didn't like him.

If anything, this wished she had Jacob with her. She knew she would feel stronger and braver if he were around. She sighed softly to herself as she turned on the kettle to make tea for Newt. Right now, Jacob needed to wait.

About a half hour later Queenie opened the sliding doors all the way and floated in two large plates, a small saucer and two cups of tea. She carried a small table in her hands which she carefully set down next to Newt. All the plates carefully drifted into their places, while the teas floated in the air waiting to be plucked by the hand who would drink it. The small saucer held several leafs and twigs for Pickett who scuttled down from his perch on Newt's shoulder to inspect the plate.

"How long will you be here?" Queenie asked softly as she sat down on her bed. She looked around, "Where is your case?"

"I was only able to get a 12 hour portkey, so at 6 am your time, I'll be swept back into London." He carefully removed his hand from Tina's as he picked up his fork to eat. He was famished. He had forgotten all about eating once he had received the letter. "As for the case," he continued, "I wasn't allowed to bring it. I left it with an old school professor."

"You must be exhausted." Queenie looked at the clock, it was already approaching 8pm. "Do you want to take a nap or anything? What time is it in London?"

"No, thank you. I don't want to sleep during any of my time here." He spoke between bites. "It's only about 2 in the morning there. I can't tell you what this portkey cost me, so I do not want to waste my time. I want to be as useful as possible."

He looked at Queenie meaningfully and added "I also think that it is probably best that you sleep tonight. While taking care of Tina is very important, you can't forget to take care of yourself. She would be worried if she saw you, as tired as you are."

Queenie looked down thoughtfully.

He looked back at the sleeping Tina. "You know this isn't how I pictured our reunion." He said aloud to Queenie.

"Well, this is not what Teenie expected either." She smiled softly. "She was so excited when she read about your publication date. She has a calendar on her bookshelf counting down to your visit. I haven't seen her so excited in ages." Queenie looked at her sleeping sister.

"I know you understand now, Newt. That she wasn't trying to hurt you by not writing back soon. She agonized about a valentine's gift for you. She had finally decided on what to get you, and was planning on getting it after work the day she was attacked. You see, no one has ever asked Teenie to be their Valentine before. I'm glad you're here, because maybe, if she isn't worrying that you are mad at her, some of her nightmares will stop."

Newt sighed, setting down his now empty plate and fork. He ran his hand over his face, as he gazed at Tina.

"It was petty of me. However, I was upset. I was embarrassed and jealous. Sometimes I feel like I don't even know myself anymore." Newt confession was soft and quiet. Queenie could tell that he was trying to say it so the sleeping Tina wouldn't hear. She took a sip of her own tea.

"Well, love can do that you." She said warmly.

Newt turned his head quickly to look at Queenie, his face flushing hard. "I thought I asked you to stay out of my head." He said almost sadly, as if she had broken his trust.

"I'm not in your head, honey. I just know you love her. I've read your letters. I've seen the gifts. I know."

"Does Tina know?" he asked delicately.

"Hum, no. I don't think she does." Queenie stated softly as she shook her head. "I think she is too afraid to trust that it might be true."

"I wouldn't hurt her." Newt stated, with a bit of sadness in his voice.

"I know, love is just a really scary thing, for everybody involved. We make ourselves vulnerable to someone we barely know. They come into our lives unexpectedly. We have to let our guard down, let others get close, trust that they won't hurt us, or if they do hurt us, they never intended too. It's complicated."

Silence followed this statement. Newt could plainly read on Queenie's face that she was thinking about Jacob. Her eyes watered a bit, but she turned to Newt smiling.

"However, I think, if my opinion matters at all, that you are doing a great job." With that Queenie floated the empty plates out of the room. She left the small table and a few minutes later a second full plate of food came floating back into the room for Newt. He was very grateful.

* * *

As it grew later, Newt continued to feed Tina bit of hot cocoa. It was a slow process, but he could see that while she consumed the cocoa, she relaxed. The sweating had almost completely subsided. When he wasn't trying to feed her, he read aloud to her from the copy of his manuscript he had brought with him. His left hand in Tina's free hand, and his right hand to turn the page. The sections he read out loud were the ones he wrote with Tina in mind. When he was having writer's block and his editors wanted him to change the language of his book, Tina had suggested to him that he should write like he was explaining to her. So he did, and he wanted her to hear those sections especially.

When the clock struck midnight in the Goldstein house, Newt stood to stretch his legs and started to make his towards the hall to use the restroom. When he slid out of the bedroom he saw Queenie was fast asleep on the couch curled up in a blanket. She looked like this was the first sleep she had gotten in a while.

When he returned from the restroom down the hall, he made himself another cup of tea. He magically dimmed the lights in the living room, and headed back into the bedroom with the intention of staying up all night. As he sipped his tea, he sorted through the newspaper clipping Tina had set aside on the bookshelf. Most were from the New York Ghost, however occasionally a Daily Prophet article was mixed in. Along with the book flyer and clipping he had sent her, she had clipped several articles that had been published about their adventure back in November. Additionally, there were several American ads for his upcoming book in there too.

He smiled to himself, and gently put everything back on the shelf. There was a warmth in his chest that wasn't there before. He could it slowly spreading through his body. He wondered if he was feeling all warm and tingly from the tea, or the idea that Tina had taken the time to lovingly cut out all the articles she found related to him. The warm feeling relaxed him and soon, despite his struggles to stay awake, he too was asleep.

Tina took a deep breath. She was so tired, her eyes lids where too heavy to open but she was awake. Or at least she thought she was awake. This could be another dream, she considered. If this was a dream, it was already better than most she had been having lately.

However, her last dream was charming. She dreamt of dancing mooncalfs, and kneazles knitting wooly jackets. There was also a niffler, wearing Newt's scarf holding a giant ruby in the shape of a heart. This strange magical creatures dream was a great improvement over watching her parents die over and over again. Or watching Credence suffer at the hand of his adopted mother. Or watching Newt get tortured by Grindelwald.

She squeezed the hand that was holding her own and let it go. Tina could feel the weight of someone's head resting on the bed near her waist. Queenie must have fallen asleep on her bed, she reasoned. She lifted her hand and started to stroke her sister's hair. Yet, it felt different. The hair was shorter. It was drier and coarse. There were no curls, just waves. It felt good in her fingers.

She felt the head under her hand start. 'They must have woken up.' She struggled with opening her eyes again, but gave in. She was too weak. Tina was tired of being so weak. She tried again, but the more she struggled to open her eyes the more tired she became.

She felt a straw to her lips.

"Here take a drink." A voice said softly to her. It wasn't Queenie. It was husky, it was male, and British. She took a long sip, it was water. Her parched throat, was bathed in relief. She took a second long draw from the straw before she felt it disappear from her lips. It was replaced and then she heard that voice again.

"Take another sip." Said the soothing voice. She trusted that voice, it was so vaguely familiar. So she drank again, and this time it was warm cocoa. Her toes tingled. She wiggled them happily. She tried to open her eyes again but failed.

"Are you feeling better?" The lovely voice asked her.

She nodded, smiling an exhausted and sleepy smile.

"You sound like Newt." Tina said, exhaustion evident in her voice.

There was a small chuckle from the lovely Newt-like voice.

"Well, I should, since I am him."

"That would make sense." She agreed sleepily. "But he isn't here." Her chin started to droop as she talked.

"I am right now." She felt a larger hand slip into her own.

"This is a lovely dream." Tina whispered. "Newt'sss mad at me." She was starting to slur her words together, as she drifted back to sleep.

"No, I can promise you. I am not made at you. I've been worried." The lovely voice made Tina feel warm.

"Billy…" She whispered giving into sleep. Newt's chest tightened, and a beast called jealously roared in his ears. "…said you'd never come." Tina managed to finish saying before drifting off to sleep.

"Tina, I will always come back to you." The lovely voice echoed in Tina's ear as she nodded off.

* * *

Newt sat looking at Tina longingly. She had been awake and he had no idea for how long. How long had she laid awake before she stroked his hair, and woke him? He had not meant to drop off, and it was dangerous to fall asleep holding her hand with an active portkey on his body. He shuddered to think what would have happened if she hadn't have woken him up, and he had accidently taken her across the ocean with a portkey distinctly meant for one person.

However, she had woken up. She spoke with him. She seemed calmed. The sweating had stopped hours ago. Tina's chest now peaceful rose and fell, she looked so happy. Relief washed over him. She wanted to see him, and he smiled to himself.

He looked at the clock in the Goldstein's bedroom and saw that it was 3:47 in the morning. Pickett had made himself comfortable on a corner of Tina's pillow where he slept soundly.

Newt stood up, stretching as went. His back ached from being bent over Tina bed. He had just over two hours left before his portkey took him back to England and he wanted to help Tina and Queenie as much as he could before he left. He slid the door to the living room open again to check if Queenie was still asleep, which she was.

The first thing he did was silent cast a spell over all the casseroles in the living room, checking to see if any of them had been tampered with. While Newt knew the food would not spoil under a stasis charm, he was worried if one might have been poisoned before coming into the house. Billy carried them in, but they were given to him by others. Someone might have poisoned a dish, knowing that the knife wound didn't kill Tina. His charms came back negative, and he felt a bit sheepish for being so paranoid. However, he did feel justified in the fact that Tina had been attacked, therefore everyone should be extra cautious.

Newt set to a small list of things he wanted to accomplish. Many of which he could complete sitting next to Tina.

Before he knew it was ten minutes to six. His portkey would be activating soon and he wanted to be ready.

"Pickett, come on." He whispered to the bowtrukle who had been making himself at home in the Goldstein residence. He had moved from Tina's pillow to the table next to the bed. The small saucer which once had leaves on it was now empty.

Newt extended his hand for his small friend to hop onto, but the bowtruckle just crossed his arms and refused to mount Newt's hand.

"Come on Pickett." Hissed Newt. "This is not the time to get indigent with me. We have to leave."

Pickett shook his head and squeaked up to Newt.

Newt sat back down in the chair next to Tina's bed and lowered himself to eye level with Pickett.

"Are you sure? If that is your choice then I'll respect that."

The squeaks continued.

"Yes, it would make me feel better knowing you were here watching her. But won't you be lonely?"

Pickett had made is point clear.

"Okay, Pickett. If you want to stay you can, but please be safe. Thank care of yourself and of the girls." Newt felt his eye's tearing up, he stood quickly and looked at the clock. Two minutes till six.

He looked down at Tina, and made a quick decision. He stooped down and kissed her on her forehead. Her fever had broken and he knew she was going to be okay. He stared at her peaceful face and his chest ached. It hurt in a way he hadn't felt in a very long time. This is what it felt like saying goodbye to Hogwarts after his expulsion. It was a feeling of longing and a desire to stay, when Newt knew perfectly well he couldn't.

* * *

He pulled the bent bottle cap out of his pocket as it started to get warm. He waved to Pickett, and with that, he was gone.

It was 7:30 when Queenie woke up. It was her first good, long night's sleep in two weeks. Her intention was to be awake before Newt left and cook him breakfast but fate had other plans. As she walked towards the stove to make some coffee she noticed a bag sitting on the table with a note addressed to her. She started the kettle, letting it heat the No-Maj way, and read her letter.

Miss. Queenie Goldstein,

Thank you for allowing me to interrupt your life for an evening. Tina only woke up once during the night, but I can safely say I think her fever has broken. She slept soundly the rest of the night.

In the bag on the table, you will find some extra money. Please do not see this as charity, but as a finder's fee. You are spending your time searching for our dear Jacob, so please allow me to assist in the cost of living while you search.

I have no doubt that when I arrive this summer, all four of us will be together again. I think that his affection for your will manifest again, even if he can't remember you.

Thank you for the continued care you give to your sister. Your assessment about my feelings for your sister, are not wrong. I only ask for the chance to tell her myself, so please keep this between us for the time being.

Also, please continue to be cautious. We don't know to what lengths someone might go to get revenge on Tina. They might attack her again, or they might attack you.

Your friend,

Newt

Queenie set down the note, and opened the bag. At least twenty large gold coins fell out of the bag. She picked them up, she wasn't familiar with British currency but the word Galleon was pressed across it. It wouldn't be until she took it to the bank to be exchanged the next day that she realized that Newt had given her enough to pay the whole month's rent at their brownstone.

In the room next door, a similar-looking letter was sitting on the table addressed to Tina.

It would be a day before Tina was awake enough to open it and reads it contents.

It read;

Dearest Tina,

This was not the reunion I had in mind. When I received Queenie's letter, I did what I could to rush here next to you. I needed to see with my own eyes that you were going to be okay. My portkey was only for 12 hours, or I would have stayed to see you wake up properly. However the few words you did say to me gave me such comfort, that I know I am leaving you in good care.

Please forgive the new interloper in your life. Pickett insisted on staying with you, to protect you. I hope you do not mind the addition to your household. If you would like, I can send you some instructions on caring for Bowtrukles. He made up his mind to stay with you last minute or I would have prepared something for you beforehand.

Now that I know you are mending, and you have watchful, if not needy, eyes on you, I know I can leave your side. It's not easy to leave, but I must.

However, I will wait for your letter. I am in no rush to hear from you, I only want to know that you are better. It was pure punishment, waiting to hear from you. I was so worried you were mad at me, or I had done something to displease you. I hold you in such high esteem that if I had done something to upset you, I would never be able to forgive myself.

So, please, dearest Tina, rest up. Be cautious, but of course, please continue being the amazing auror and woman you are.

Deepest affections,

Newt


	12. Chapter 11

**NOTE:  
Readers,**

 **I am so sorry about my absence. My life fell apart a few months ago. Almost every bad thing you could think of has happened to me; broken laptop, broken engagement, broke heart, broken ankle and I had to find a new place to live. However, I am back.**

 **I never planned on abandoning this story. I have been running plot lines through my mind for the last several months, so there is an ending. I signed up for Camp Nanowrimo to dedicate more time to finishing this story. Much like Tina, I am so very sorry about how long this took to reach you, my wonderful wonderful readers**

* * *

Sunday March 6th, 1927

My Dearest Newt,

I am so very sorry about my delay in writing back to you. Please know that just because I haven't been able to write, does not mean I haven't been thinking about you. In fact, I think of you every day, so I am sorry that this letter is coming so late. I have been so tired for the last few weeks and I have been taking my time to heal, stretch and get back to being myself.

Tomorrow is the big day that I finally go back to work after the attack. I wanted to write to you about everything that happened this last month while it is still fresh in my mind. I want to give you the full story, because I think you were probably hurt with everything that happened and I owe you an explanation for that.

However, before I get too far ahead of myself, I wanted to put your mind at ease and let you know the Pickett is a wonderful house guest. I figured you have been worried about him since you left. He is so fond of you, and I know, despite your protests, you are fond of him. It must have been difficult for you to leave him behind, he has made it clear that it was his decision to stay with us. He is a headstrong little fellow.

Actually, Pickett is how I knew your visit to me wasn't a dream. I woke about a day and a half after you had left and there was Pickett. He was sitting in a small potted plant that Queenie had bought him, on the bedside table. Queenie must have gone after you left to find a new home for him, he seems to love it. He now sleeps between us every night, and feeds on any insects that get into the apartment. He is the first awake in the morning and is a very adamant alarm clock. Bowtruckles do not need eight hours of sleep, do they?

Newt, I just want to thank you for your kindness to me and my sister. I won't ever forget all you did and have done for me. Queenie told me all about your visit, well as much as she could anyways, since she told me it was the first night she was able to sleep for more than an hour or two in a row.

I feel guilty that both you and Queenie had to take so much time out of your lives to take care of me. I have always wanted to be the strong and reliable one. I have wanted to be the bulwark in my sister's life. Yet here she has been nursing me like an invalid for a month. She had to put her search for Jacob on hold because of me. I swear, from now on I will help her as much as I can.

Of course, I didn't want to burden you either. I don't want to become a hassle in your life. I wanted to be a person you could count on to make your life better, instead I made your life harder. I can't even imagine what an international portkey has cost you. You cannot pretend that I don't know they cost a pretty Dragot (or whatever you call money in England). There is nothing quite like a month in bed, to realize how simultaneously strong and delicate relationships with others are.

However, before I get too distracted, I want to tell you, personally, why I never wrote you back about Valentine's day. First, yes, I would be honored to be your Valentine, truly. I hope you will still accept me as your very late Valentine. No one has ever asked me before and I adore the little stuffed niffler you sent me. That is something that I never thought I would say when we first met, but yes, I adore the niffler. I have named him Newt Junior, since he was a gift from you. I know that probably seems silly and sentimental. Queenie and I didn't have a lot of toys growing up, after our parents passed away. So, toys were a luxury for us, and whatever we had, we had to share.

So Newt Junior, or NJ for short, has been a real sweet reminder that here is room for toys in my life. He has been my constant companion since I was attacked, in the moments of awareness between my feverish nightmares, my little NJ was there, reminding me that, somewhere out there, you existed in the world. Knowing that made being awake, a little less scary.

Your gift is really where the story starts, because I wanted to get you something amazing too. I thought about it for days before I figured out just what to get you, which I have included in with this letter. Once again, I am so sorry it is so late.

It was Monday, February 7th, just about the end of the day. Billy and I had been out walking near the docks. I had been meeting with a sources about the runespoor egg case. After the meeting I figured we'd stroll the docks for a while and just watch things. It amazing the things you can see if you are just watching for slightly unusual occurrences. It's how I found you, after all.

My plan was, after the docks, I was going to swing by the shop I had ordered your gift at, pick it up, wrap it and get it in the mail with plenty of time to surprise you. However, we never made it to the shop.

I really do blame myself for everything that happened, because I should have been paying more attention. Before you try to say it isn't my fault, which Queenie has said too, the fact is, I work a dangerous job. My mind was everywhere else but the case Billy and I were working. I was thinking about you and NJ, I was thinking about Queenie and how the hunt for Jacob was going. I always kept my eyes peeled for Jacob while walking. I was thinking about your gift and the summer when you'd come back to New York. I didn't realize that the path behind Billy and I was slowly being blocked.

We entered a road near the docks that has a lot of open air vendors, people selling potatoes, fish, stolen goods, and of course, the occasional magical item. The reason I always walked this road when I am in the areas is because there is a hidden apothecary. Witches and Wizards know about it, but it's hidden from No-Maj eyes. The shop from says that it is a place to get your brooms re-bristled, but any witch or wizard worth their salt knows what is really in that store.

As we were heading down the road, thinking about the future and looking into store front displays, we were ambushed from the front.

It was frankly shocking that in the middle of a muggle street someone would start shooting spells. I reacted as quickly as I could, but I might have been too slow. I tried casting as many shield charms as I could, but the No-Majs were starting to panic. The screaming started and spells were flying everywhere. They were rushing down the street behind us or into shops to clear the line of fire. In retrospect, these spells were shot widely with no real direction, and I think the whole purpose was to incite mass hysteria and keep me busy with shield charms. It worked.

I was blocking the spells as best as I could but I was worried about what happened to the spells and curses that missed me or bounced off the shield charms. Spells were flying past me left and right. The end of the road behind had been blocked with a fire-truck, and the firefights could not seem to get the engine started again. So all those people who were rushing to get away were trapped behind Billy and I, with the spells were flying towards them.

In retrospect, this was a very well planned out ambush. I thought they had bad aim and that it was bad luck that the road was blocked. However, what they were attempting to do was funnel No-Majs into the line of fire, and then intentionally aiming at them to distract me.

I pushed Billy aside and told him to try to get the No-Majs out of here. I could see at least three attackers, and I did my best to immobilize them. However, while I was shooting an immobulus charm, I didn't have time to shield myself and I was hit with a killing curse. The killing curse hadn't been one of the spells the attackers were using, so I wasn't expecting it.

It was a surreal moment that I will never forget it for the rest of my life. I was engulfed in light, and it was strangely silent. I knew that that moment, was the last moment in my life. I thought of Queenie and how I hoped she found Jacob so she wouldn't be alone. I thought of you, and how I would never hear from you again. I imagined you in London, sitting in your suitcase room, reading Queenie's letter to you about my death. It was all so vivid in those moments that for a second, I thought I was a ghost seeing the future that I would miss. It was peaceful. Then the impact hit me.

Amazingly, the pin you gave me deflected most of the spell. The sheer force of the two spell connecting knocked me off my feet and threw me back a few yards and knocked the wind out of me. The majority of the killing curse bounced back into a wall and rained debris down on two of the attackers.

I might have been in shock. My ears where ringing, and I was so very sore from the bit of the spell that did hit me. It felt like all my energy had been sucked away. However, the fact that I survived seemed unreal. I got to my feet as quickly as I could and looked back to check on Billy and the No-Majs. Everyone appeared safe still. I reached for my MACUSA badge, which in emergencies, can be activated like a tracking beacon but with my head turned, I was attacked again.

It wasn't a spell this time. It was stupid of me to look away from my attackers, but I thought I had enough time.

I didn't.

While I was reaching for my badge, two of the attackers rushed me. I tried to cast a spell but one of them had grabbed my wand arm, and while he had my outstretched arm clenched in their right hand, he used his free left hand to stab me in the right side.

Being stabbed feels nothing like being hit by a curse. During Auror training, the unforgivable curses were cast on us, so we understood the extent of what the spell felt like on others. It trains us to be weary of the use of excess force. Spells can linger. Spells can have side effects. However, it is typically quick, you can typically heal yourself. If you can't heal yourself, someone around you can.

A knife feels nothing like a spell. If anything, I think it might be worse. It's not instantaneous like a spell, it's continuous. The pain starts and doesn't fade. If anything, it starts to hurt more with time and it is unbearable.

I felt a few ribs break as the knife was shoved into my rib cage. I could hear them and feel them through my body. The cracks and pops of bone and torn muscle still echo in my ears. It was cold. So shockingly cold. It took my breath away. Suddenly something metal, enters your warm body, it chills you. It is like a wave of pain and ice. Or maybe falling into very cold water. It drains you and leaves you struggling for breath.

I looked down at the knife in my side. I could see my blood pouring into my coat. My blue coat becoming red. Suddenly there was lots of popping sounds and when I looked up again, the attackers were gone. I was alone.

At some point I found myself kneeling on the ground, I couldn't hear much. It must have been the shock. There was a knife hilt sticking out of my side and my wand was still clenched tightly in my hand. It felt like I was living in a world where everything was slowed down. My brain was trying to catch up to what happened. I reached for my MACUSA badge and tried to active the beacon in it, but my hand was shaking too much. I couldn't flip it open, my fingers wouldn't work.

Suddenly, or at least it seemed sudden, there was an old Polish man at my side. He was trying to talk to me but I couldn't understand him, I couldn't understand anything. He was looking into my eyes and I could see his lips moving. I handed him my badge and I will never forget the shock on his face. He squeezed it and activated the beacon for me. In the back of my mind, I realized that me must have been a wizard. I tried to think of spells to cast to cure or heal myself. All I thought was how stupid I was.

Behind me, Billy blew up an outdoor stall to create an escape for the No-Majs still trapped in the street. In the back of my mind I thought about containment. I thought about how all those No-Majs were going to go out and tell everyone about a lightening fight they saw. I thought about how I was going to get in trouble again. I was going to lose my job all over again. It was a new sickening wave of cold.

Billy arrived next to me. I saw him reach towards my side, to pull out the knife, but the old man wouldn't let him. Billy tried again, and the old man pushed him away. They verbally fought as the man pressed cloth against the wound. He had very kind eyes, but there was fear in them. I didn't hear or understand. All I could hear was the blood in my ears. Then I blacked out.

Sleep wasn't restful. It wasn't even really sleep. I was in and out of being awareness. I was in the hospital. I could hear doctors but not understand them. Aurors came and went. Lots of people talking. I knew something was wrong. It wasn't just a normal knife wound, because if it was, I should have been better already. Wounds, bones, muscle, they can all be healed in a second. Even after getting hit with part of a killing curse, I should be getting better. In the back of my mind, I knew my soul had been wounded.

Then Queenie was there. I could feel her in my head. It was a comfort, for once, to know she was there, in my mind. My mind was all over the place and I thought maybe, she could see it. Maybe if she saw, she would know what was happening. Eventually the hospital said there was nothing more they could do for me except keep my under observation. I stayed under observation for a few days and then Queenie and Billy took me home.

Coming home was good. My bed, the smells, the sounds out my window, even Mrs. Esposito were all welcome reminders of everything I knew. All the things that were mine. However, I wasn't getting better. I was healed physically but I wasn't okay mentally. Being awake was terrible and sleep wasn't any better. During my sleep I saw my parents die over and over again. I watched them get frail and die. I watched Jacob leave, I saw myself betray you to MACUSA over and over again. I had nightmares about you, Queenie, Jacob and about the future.

I tried to write to you.  
I knew you were waiting.

When I was awake I thought about how mad you would be at me. I thought about how I was going to lose my job, how Queenie and I would be homeless again, like we were as children. Billy came to visit. When I was awake, he talked about work, which made me anxious that I might never go back.

Being awake, wasn't like actually being awake. It was more like being aware, but also being in a fog. I couldn't stay conscious for more than 30 minutes at time.

Secretly, I kept hoping to get a letter from you but I knew that because I hadn't written back you weren't going to write again. Queenie would reread all your old letters to me because they were the only thing that gave me a break from my fears. However, Billy made me feel insecure. He would ask why you hadn't written, or visited. The attack was international news, how could you not know?

Then you came.

I had a dream about…well it is hard to actually explain what the dream was about. However the strangeness makes sense because it was, after all, a dream. My stuffed niffler NJ was wearing your scarf, riding on roller skates while carrying a giant ruby in the shape of a heart. He skated past a group of kneazles knitting coats and hats for all the new occamys. There were mooncalfs dancing in a large circle to the newest jazz song. Then NJ ran up to the top of the MACUSA building and couldn't open the window. But then Pickett showed up, and he picked the lock and opened the window.

At that moment, I think, my soul was starting to heal. That was the first real dream I had had in weeks.

I had another dream that you were there with me. It was only later that I learned this wasn't a dream.

However in the moment, it felt like such a lovely dream. Your voice, your hand. I think I might have even touched your hair (which I am very sorry about invading your personal space). At the time, I thought it was so lovely and unreal. It made no sense for you to be there, so I thought it was a dream.

Then, about a day and a half later, I woke up. I really woke up, there was no fog. I was fully aware for the first time. Pickett was there, Queenie was with me. She told me everything. She told me of your visit, your generosity, she told me about the dementor's breath and the hot chocolate. She showed me the letter you wrote to me. Relief swept over me and I cried myself to sleep. I finally slept well.

The following morning I sent an owl to the head of the investigations teams that I had finally woken up. She wrote me back saying that she would visit me the following day at home, if that was allowed.

Mrs. Hendricks showed up promptly at noon. Queenie was home and let her in. I was still in bed, however sitting up and starting to eat solid foods, with many side helpings of chocolate.

I like Mrs. Hendricks. She has replaced Mr. Graves as the head of the investigations unit. She isn't large or imposing, if anything she might be like a human kneazle, smart, cunning and constantly reading different situations. She is fair and thin, and appears to be very much a lady. Wear gloves and a handsome coat and hat. Some were surprised when she took over the department since no one knew if she could cut it as a leader. However, she is proven that she is worth her weight in occamy egg shells. She isn't loud or aggressive, but she is heard and followed because of her sheer force of will and knowledge. Another reason I like her, she is also wary of our President.

She told me about how things at headquarters have been since my attack and that a special team had been assigned to investigate my attack. I told her everything I knew, I told her about the dementor's breath. I told her about the Polish man who had helped me and about the ambush. She took notes very carefully as I talked. It was exhausting.

She informed me that Billy had been reassigned to Auror Johnston since my attack. I guess he is upset that he isn't allowed to work on the attack case but instead has been working on a "boring" case. Johnston has spent the last 10 years tracking down very dangerous magical texts. Things that accidentally end up in private No-Maj collections, or things that are donated to local public libraries. Books that can cause blindness in the reader, and insanity in others. If anything, Johnston does some of the most dangerous and valuable work in the department but all Billy has done is complain. Johnston is a very dry humored man, I bet he is getting some satisfaction out of bothering Billy.

Mrs. Hendricks then informed me that when I do come back to work, I will be assigned to a special investigation myself. At first I asked if she wanted me to come back at all. She took a sip of her coffee and looked at me straight. "You are the person who brought the kneazles into MACUSA, aren't you?" I nodded.

"You are also the person who continued to follow a case, despite being told not to, because your instinct told you otherwise. You housed a criminal and protected a No-Maj to further your case. You also helped to stop Grindelwald and held him at bay on your own. You snuck into the City Hall subway station, while it was under Auror protection. Frankly, I wouldn't feel comfortable if you **didn't** work for me, at least this way we both know everything that is going on. Hiding away our most valuable player in the basement and not placing putting them in the game, is not how you win. "

She said to me, "No, I am going to do one better, I am hide you in plain sight when you are ready to come back to work." She smiled while telling me all this. It almost felt like I was watching the gears behind her eyes turn. "I am going to hide you in plain sight while you investigate Billy Bricks."

Mrs. Hendricks then told me how she has had a bad feeling about Billy for a while. She was also opposed to having him assigned to me, but it was Madam Picquery's decision. Mrs. Hendricks wants me to come back and be assigned a temporary desk job in the unit. She said it would be something that sounds time-consuming and dull, like address checking where all active magical city outposts are, or mailing out reminder flyers about broom flight locations, which would keep Billy far enough from me that I can look into his background.

I doubted what she saying about Billy until she told me how the kneazles seem to hate him. They stalk him and watch him closely while he is in the Headquarters, however he never sees them. She also said that Red, the elevator goblin, saw him intentionally make you wait when you arrived with your international portkey. Despite Billy having strict orders to meet you at 6pm, Red said he saw him purposely leave the atrium right before six. He got into Red's elevator and made him take him to the top floor and back for no reason, other than to be late.

She warned me that he would be allowed to visit me again soon. I guess she forbid him from visiting me after he was late are bringing you to our Brownstone. She told him that I had taken a turn for the worst and that I needed rest. However, she would have to let him start visiting in a few days after her visit. She asked me to get as much information out of him, willingly, as possible. She also wanted me to play up being ill, and to not mention anything about the dementor's breath. The fact that we know what the blade was covered with should be kept a secret. The investigation team still has the dagger and they plan to run a few more test on it now that they know about the dementor's breath.

After she left, I made my first trip into the living room since my attack and I sat in front of the fire with my knitting. Feeling very alive and very very tired. I slept on the couch that night.

Just like Mrs. Hendricks said, two days later Billy showed up after work. Bring flowers and well-wishes from co-workers. He was very interested in your visit, Newt. He wanted to know what we talked about, what we ate, where you slept. Which, for the record, was an extremely inappropriate question to ask!

He was strangely pleased when I told him that I slept through your whole visit. He asked if I had any letters from you since your visit and I answered honestly, no I had not. Then he said something very strange to me, "Well, not all men like to see woman they fancy, being all weak. For some men, it makes them forget about the lady completely." I did not answer.

Instead, I asked him about work. What was he working on? Who had he been working with? Had his family been worried when they heard about the attack? How had his home office in Detroit reacted to the news?

I got very little information out of him. He just wanted to talk about the attack. He wanted to know what I remembered. He wanted me to recount everything for him. I told him I didn't remember anything after the spell hitting me. He asked me if I remembered the Polish man, and I told him I didn't. He wanted to know what he looked like, but I told him I don't remember there being a Polish man there at all.

The truth is, you are the only one, other than my sister, who will ever know the whole story from me.

Newt, I hope you don't mind that I am shouldering you with this burden, but this will be the only written account of my attack. The things I have told you…they are too personal to share with strangers or anyone else frankly. The nightmares specifically. You are the only one I can trust with this knowledge. Much like how you trusted me enough to give me your book during our fight with Grindelwald.

I never thought that I would have someone that I could share these things with, that wasn't my sister. I never thought someone would come to me while I was sick and weak. I had given up hope that things like this would ever be possible for me.

I feel so terrible about not writing to you right away when you asked me to be your Valentine. I should have written that very same day, but I wanted to send you something wonderful. I am so sorry for the confusion and hurt I probably caused you. The thought of you sitting and waiting to hear from me for weeks only to learn I had been injured…it breaks my heart to think of. In the letter you left, you wrote "It was pure punishment, waiting to hear from you" and I am so very sorry.

Also, the fact that you managed to get an international portkey, I am not sure how much it cost you, but please allow me to pay you back. It is my fault you had to come all this way.

I am sorry about all the problems I have caused you. Between traveling and helping endure the burden of what happened to me. I am not sure that words in a simple letter like mine can ever express the gratitude I have for you. You friendship has been a gift, once in which I cannot simply put a price on. I hope that in time, I will be able to repay you tenfold for every act of kindness and affection you have shown me.

Speaking of gifts, several days after you left, I got a care package from your friend Professor Dumbledore. There was some lovely yarn (which in his note he said was wool and unicorn hair) and a whole box of chocolate frogs. We don't have chocolate frogs here in the US, so they were a real delight. I think they bothered Pickett, the first one I opened jumped onto his tree, and he wasn't pleased about that at all. I have also started knitting a new hat with the yarn. (It is a beautiful iridescent white, and I cannot begin to think what it might have cost.). However, that wasn't the only care package I got. I also got a package from your Prime Minister's wife. Frankly I was shocked. She send me some chocolate cauldrons and a lovely note thanking me for my hard work in the line of service, and she wished me a speedy recovery. I don't think anyone in Madam Picquery's family sends gifts to international aurors who are injured in ambushes. If this is standard English practice, I approve. I have pinned her note up on the wall next to my bed. She seems like a lovely lady. I also got a box from your mother! She sent me a clipping of your recent promotional interview for your book release and chocolate chip Hippogriff shaped cookies. She sent a very lovely letter mentioning how she looks forward to meeting me.

Then just last week, I got a box from the Countess. I assume you must have told her what happened? I bet that is a story in itself.

Either way, Newt thank you so much for everything. I know this was a letter you were waiting a long time for. I hope you will forgive me the tardiness, especially with its length. I should be going to bed soon, since tomorrow, I go back to work.

And before you say anything, of course, I will be careful.

Ever so appreciatively yours,

Tina Goldstein,

P.S. Do not forget to open the second envelope.

Newt bumbled with opening the other envelope, there was a weight in the bottom of it and his hand shook fiercely and he tried to fight the glued down fold. He had not struggled with opening something so much since he was a boy at Christmas time. He finely just tore the end of the infernal envelope off and a beautiful dark blue pen rolled into his palm. It must have been made out of some type of stone, since it was very cool to the touch. On the shaft of the pen his saw his initials N.S.

He turned to the small piece of paper in the now decimated envelope.

Newt,

This is a self-indexing, ever-inked fountain pen. You will never have to carry ink or quill around with you again. Which, I think will be very useful in the field. It writes like a quill and best of all, it will automatically produce an index at the end of whatever book you are writing in. Just in case you ever decide to write a second book, or you need to make annotations in your new book. I had it custom made with a stone barrel and cap because the shop only offered it in gold and silver, and I know how shiny things disappear around you.

Happiest belated Valentine's day.

XO Tina.

…

Newt mopped his face with his hand. He left his hand resting on his chin, fingered his newly grown beard, as he set down Tina's letter and pen.

'XO Tina.' Was that a kiss and a hug? or was that just how American's signed valentine's letters?

He tried to figure out how he felt and all he could decide was that he was overwhelmed. He was happy to know that Pickett was doing well, because he had been worried about his small friend. However, he was also slightly upset that Tina had been awake for two weeks and was just now writing to him. He chastised himself for that thought, he did tell her to write him when she was feeling better. He never specified she had to do it when she was awake and not completely better. However, a side of him wished he would have known she was going to be okay sooner. He could feel the stress in his stomach tighten like a knot as he thought about the last few hellish weeks.

It has been very hard to come back from the Brownstone in New York. Not only was it hard emotionally, it was hard physically. Once he landed back in the Ministry, he walked himself back into his office and got right back to work, despite only having an hour or two of sleep in almost 2 days.

It was about 3pm when he heard a knock at his door. He had looked from a pile of creature cases that he is attempting to read. However, his eyes couldn't focus on the words and frankly, he was exhausted and didn't care. When the door opened he was surprised to see Minister Tolipan. It felt likes ages since he had last seen the man, even though he knew it was only about 24 hours before.

To Newt's surprised, Minister Tolipan levitated a haphazard pile of creature cases off the guest chair in Newt's office and sat down across from him. Tolipan than apologized to him about not telling him about Tina's condition. He has known for at least a week and had not mentioned it to Newt. He expressed his sympathy for Tina's situation and remorse at his own slip in leadership.

Newt was flabbergasted, especially since he never mentioned Tina to the Minister when he asked for the portkey.

Tolipan said to him "If it had been my Mary, I would have wanted to know right away. I knew you worked well with Auror Goldstein, and I knew you two were close. I'm sorry. I promise I won't force you to come to too many Ministry events while she is recovering. Only one or two. You're no good to us worried and distracted." Tolipan winked and started to leave Newt's office and turned around adding "Oh and come Monday, I am going to have a part-timer come to your office to take care of your creature cases for you."

Newt's mouth was still open in shock when the door closed. Not only was he going to get out of almost all the events he figured the Minster would force him to attend through their deal. He had been asking for years for an assistant, and now with Tina injured, he gets one. He wished he could have been happier at this good fortunes.

At 5pm he took the Floo Network from the Ministry to Hogsmead and made the long hike up to the castle. Dumbledore once again greeted him at the door. He and Newt went up to the empty Transfiguration classroom, where the case was sitting locked and tied behind the teacher's desk. Dumbledore walked Newt through his case and showed him that all his creatures are fine. He occasionally made comments and suggestions to Newt about how to improve the cases's transfiguration spells. Over all, Newt was thoroughly impressed. All the mooncalfs pups are happy and healthy and despite the niffler's interest in Dumbledore's glasses, they remain on his face. Dougal hugs Newt when he saw him and looked around curiously for Pickett.

Dumbledore had dinner brought by a house elf into the case and the two men discussed Tina's condition, dementor's breath, and Newt's every impressive case. By 7pm Newt had fallen asleep on the cot in his shack, and Dumbledore did one more round of feeding and tending to the mooncalf pups, for his young exhausted friend. Dumbledore, thankfully let him sleep.

Newt woke up early the next day, and was surprised not only to find himself inside his case, but also still at Hogwarts. He had no choice but to bring his case to work with him that day, and hope no one noticed.

The next two weeks for Newt had been agony. He forced himself to focus on work and caring for his creatures. He told himself not to worry about Tina too much, because worrying would only make him suffer twice. During this time, he stopped shaving every morning, he decided that he couldn't be bothered with wasting the time.

The new part-timer worker that Minister Tolipan had promised showed up promptly the morning of Monday, July 28th. Her name was Vivian Easton, but she preferred to be called Viv. Newt continually forgot that fact, and every time he called her "Miss. Easton", she would respond with a smile and say "Please, call me Viv. Don't make me ask again."

She was nice enough, she made steady progress on the creature cases. However, to Newt's annoyance, she interrupted him several time during the day. She wanted to ask about his book, and how it was coming along. She wanted to know how he liked his tea, and what he thought of her new sweater. Did he like going to Quidditch games? Her brother played quidditch professionally, and he could get Newt tickets if he wanted them. All useless prattle, Newt thought.

He was growing tired of her fast, and he almost wished his department didn't have a part-timer. Or at least one with her desk outside someone else's office other than his.

His mother had even stopped by his apartment a few times to see him. He had finally told her about Tina and her attack. His mother was surprisingly sympathy to Tina's situation. Not that Newt would call his mother heartless, it's just…she was so…English. Very cool on the outside, rarely displayed emotions in regards to humans and she really only showed affection to her Hippogriffs. His whole family had put so much pressure on him and his brother to work their way up through the Ministry. Of course, Theseus had properly impressed their parents, with his heroic past and continual presence at important Ministry functions. However, Newt was the perpetual disappointment.

Between being expelled from Hogwarts and taking the only position in the Ministry that interested him, he settled in. Without good N.E.W.T. scores, (which he never took) his chances at any major promotions was slim. When he enlisted to work with dragons, instead of at the front, his parents sighed. He could still remember the cool look of disappointment on his mother's face when he told her he was taking a yearlong sabbatical to work on his book. Little did his mother know that his book had already pre-sold enough copies that he could leave a bag of gold with Queenie and not even feel it's loss.

So his mother's interest in Tina was a surprise. He wasn't surprised she sent Tina something, even though she had not mentioned it to him. He looked back at the letter he had just received. Hippogriff shaped cookies were her specialty, but he knew which article she had sent Tina, and it wasn't...the most flattering to him. The article referred to him as "an uncomfortable and anxious individual." As well as "fanatical and obsessed with his area of research." Newt sighed again, he knew those facts to be true, if not... complimentary.

He skimmed Tina's letter again, and again, and again. He fixated on the details of her attack. He closed his eyes and watched in play out in his head. Tears ran down his cheek.

Suddenly he was furious with Billy. Billy, whom he thought was dragging his feet while taking him to Tina's, was indeed doing it on purpose! Newt knew that he had been jealous of Billy, and his time with Tina. However to know that he was trying to plant doubts in Tina's mind about him, disgusted him. How dare Billy imply that he, Newt Scamander, thought Tina Goldstein, the bravest woman he had ever know and love of his life, was weak! How dare he poison her again him with fictitious reasons why he hadn't written.

If Billy was the cause of all of this, so Merlin help him, he was going to teach Billy a lesson.

His fists were shaking again. Newt took a few deep breaths to calm down, this wasn't him, he needed to calm down. He had too much to think about to waste any more time or energy on Billy Bricks.

With every deep breath Newt felt the tension in his chest loosen. Like a large Ashwinder had taken up residence in his chest a few weeks ago and only now started to uncurl itself. He had finally heard from Tina, that is all that mattered now.

He looked up at the picture of her, the gift from Queenie, that he kept on his desk. She was alive. She was awake. She wrote him back. She still cared for him.

Right now, that is all that matters.


	13. Chapter 12

Greetings readers,

Happy 2018. I have been working on this story during Nanowrimo, and I have finally started my editing. My goal is this whole story will be completed before The Crimes of Grindelwald will be released in November 2018. There are at least six more chapters to come.

* * *

March 11th, 1927

My dearest, Tina.

First, I must say that I love the pen you gave me. It is amazing, and I think it actually makes my handwriting more steady and legible, which just proves that it must be magic. My editors wished I had this pen months ago. This is the best valentine's gift anyone could receive, it makes me feel sheepish for sending you just a stuff animal, when you got me a stunning, custom-made, and well thought out gift. Is there anything I could send you in return? Is there anything you might want from England? Tea? Biscuits? A fully indexed series of magical history encyclopedias? I am joking about the last one. No one wants a fully indexed series of magical history encyclopedias.

However, I am serious about suggestions on things to send you. Everything you have sent during our correspondence has been thoughtful. Gifts for my creatures, socks, and a pen. I feel like I send you Juvenal gifts. A feather for your hat, or my old school pin, a stuffed animal. These aren't the sort of things most young women hope, or even wish, to receive from a man. So, if anything crosses your mind, please let me know. I would be happy to oblige you.

Second, I am going to address that things at the end of your letter first, simply because it will be easiest to start there. I have written you several drafts of this letter and each time, I start at the very beginning and… well, I get stuck. I get chocked up, frustrated and so very upset. It's strange how since knowing you, I feel so many more feelings than I ever did before. Almost as if I am seeing the world from a different angle.

So, I am going to write this letter from a different angle too, and I hope this approach will allow me to write you a long wonderful letter, like the one you wrote me.

I am so very happy to hear that you have gone back to work. I know that by the time I received this letter you have already been back to work for at least three days, since international owls roughly take the long. I can only imagine how impatient you were to get back to work, knowing your dedication for your job. If the Ministry of Magic had employee's even a quarter as dedicated as you, we might have international magical cooperation.

While I know you were probably cursing Merlin's beard to get back to work, but I am so happy to hear that you took the time to heal properly. I cannot imagine what you have gone through or what it must have felt like. Actually, I try not to think about what you must have felt, because it hurts my chest.

After fighting Grindelwald in the subway, I was sore for weeks. I would wake up in the night with any aching back and cramps in my legs. I knew it was the magical after effects from the curses. It helped that I came out of the fight, overall, unscathed. However, when I think about you, and what you must have suffered, it hurts. I'm sorry I have to change the subject.

I also not surprised that Billy Bricks might have something to do with your attack. He has always given me an uneasy feeling, however, I think it was originally because I was jealous of him.

He got to spend so much time with you. He got to have lunch with you, walk around New York with you, and solve cases with you. All the things that, while I sit at my desk here in London, I wish I could do with you. When I met him, he didn't give me a good feeling. I hated leaving you, and knowing that he would come sit beside you in my place.

I feel justified in knowing that even the Kneazels don't like him. Really, they truly are excellent judges of character. While in Egypt, I watched a kneazel stare a grown wizard into submission. He street vendor who was trying to sell overpriced "magical" scarab beetles to wizarding tourists. It was very impressive to see.

However, I know it's going to be tiresome hearing it from me again, but please be careful. If Billy did have anything to do with your attack, it could be dangerous poking around into his background. If you get attacked or hurt again, and I can't help, it will drive me barmy. So, please take care at work, you being safe means the world to me.

As for your care packages, no, it is not common for the Minister of Magic's wife to send care packages to international aurors after they are attacked. However, Minster Tolipan came to me the day I returned from New York. I had only been back a few hours, and I was practically falling asleep at my desk. I was exhausted. It was 6am your time when I left New York, but 12pm in London. I still had a half day of work to complete.

Then suddenly, the Minster of Magic is standing in my office, apologizing to me. At first, I thought it was a dream and I had dozed off at my desk again. He told me how remorseful he felt about not telling me about of attack when he first learned about it. Minster Tolipan had no idea that I was clueless. It seems that after he secured me my Portkey, that he went home and discussed our situation with his wife, and that is why you got the care package you did.

I will say, I've never had a strong opposition to the Minster of Magic. Nor I was ever major supporter either. He was just a man doing his job, just as I am a person doing mine. However, I am feeling so optimistic towards him, that I might even send him a Christmas card.

The other big news the Minster brought me that day was that he had assigned my office a new part-time worker.

I am not sure if you remember several letters ago, but I believe I wrote to you about how backed up my office had been for the last several months. That I had been requesting a part-time worker but that all my requests had been denied. Well, I guess you just need to have someone very near and dear to you almost die, for the Minster to approve your request.

To be frank, you being injured isn't work a million part-time workers. I would have rather nothing happen to you at all and I would just continue to be overworked.

The new employee, Miss Easton, she seems to be a decent sort of person. It has been nice to just deposit the simpler creature cases on her desk, since most of the cases that come in are simple but time consuming, while the difficult ones can takes weeks to clear up.

Having a new person in the office has highlighted to me a fact about myself, I don't make friends quickly. I would prefer to take my time and assess the situation and environment before making friends. Maybe I am too much the magizoologists, because I feel like even human interactions are predictable to an extent. Most people meet and work together for a few months before knowing much about each other outside work. Unless, that is only how it happens with me. Do you make friends with your co-workers quickly?

Despite my feelings on the matter, Miss. Easton seems to think we are fast friends. Which surprises me because we would never be friends outside of work. She is only a few years out of Hogwarts and seems to run in a very fashionable crowd. While I spend hours in a suitcase mucking out magical beast habitats. (However, the dung of many of my magical creatures is quite profitable, and that is how I offset the cost of their maintenance and food.)

Miss. Easton, or Viv, as she would like me to call her, only works about 20 hours a week. Yet when she is in the office, I find myself becoming significantly less productive. Often, she comes into my office to just "chat" as she calls it, when I am researching something. Just yesterday I was looking up some articles about the properties of dragon's blood for Albus, (since he is currently researching the different uses of dragon's blood), and she just came in, sat on the edge of my desk and started talking.

My desk is covered in files, so the fact that she found a place to sit was a surprise in its self, but then she just talked to me while ignoring the fact that I was in the middle of reading.

I will say she is rather… well, I guess there is no polite way of putting this, but she is nosy. She asks a lot of questions about things not related to work. What was like to fight Grindelwald? Do I have any wounds from the battle? What is my favorite type of magical beast? What do I think of her new sweater? How do I like the tea she brought in? Do my parents host parties very often?

I mean, what kind of questions are those?

How can I explain to anyone but you, what it was like to fight Grindelwald? Only you would understand, since you have been there. It's inappropriate to ask someone about their "battle wounds", as she calls them. Of course the fight with Grindelwald left me wounded. However, she is very presumptuous to assume that I would tell her about them. It's a private matter.

As for my scars, most come from beasts, not humans. Not that I would tell Miss. Easton that anyways. I also don't think that she, or anyone would be impressed by them or find them interesting. My scars are all a part of learning more about magical creatures. Part of the reason I know so much about Murtlap bites is because I was bit by one too. It's about learning, not bragging.

Also she asked me to pick a favorite beast! How could I pick a favorite beast? That is like asking a mother to pick her favorite child.

Additionally, all her sweaters look exactly the same. They are just different colors of pink and red. She also insists on making my tea for me in the afternoon and she always brings biscuits. I have asked her to stop and reminded her time and time again that serving tea is NOT in her job description and she is belittling herself acting like a house elf. She just waves me off and keeps saying its practice for the future, whatever that means.

Also, she has this strange obsession with my parents. My mother has come into the office once since I came back from seeing you, and Miss Easton practically held her hostage asking her all kinds of questions about my childhood and whatnot. It was embarrassing, since my mother holds the Ministry to higher standard than Miss. Easton's behavior. (Of course, my mother has no idea what any Ministry standards actually are, so there is that.)

But speaking of my mother, I am so embarrassed to find out that she sent you that interview. It was not my best moment. Being called a "Scruffy looking Niffler Herder" who is "uncomfortable and anti-social" and "fanatical and obsessed with his area of research" is not how I would like you, or anyone, to think of me.

That interview took place within the week I had come back from New York. I was exhausted, and for a while, stopped shaving in the morning to get a bit more time sleeping. I will say, I had a nice beard going too, if a bit unkempt, however, nothing compared to our friend Albus.

The interviewer was rather pushy and I did my best to keep my temper. However when they asked me the best way to exterminate gnomes, I had had enough. My publishers weren't too happy with the interview, however it has helped publicity for the book. Now people think I am a moody and standoffish adventurer with a chip on my shoulder, or whatever my editor said.

My mother asked about you when I got back from New York. She caught me when I was weak and before I knew it, I had told her all about seeing you in New York and how worried and scared I was. She never told me she was sending you something in the mail. Since my trip to New York in November my mother has been a more attentive to me than she ever has before.

I don't mean to say that in a rude way. She just never seemed very interested in my life before. My parents really aspired for my brother and I to have important careers in the Ministry. Of course Thesises becomes a famous war hero, and I get thrown out of Hogwarts. I think my mother is more interested in my life now that I am making a name for myself. It feels wrong to write that, it feels ungenerous. We have just never been close.

So it has been a surprise that my mother has taken such an interest in you. However, I am pleased that she wrote to you. Did you write her back?

As for the countess, I did write to her recently. She sent me a letter several days before I got the letter from Queenie, and I was too out of sorts to write her back. However, a few day after I got back, I felt prepared to write her back. She was writing to invite me to a party she was hosting, I told her that I wasn't feeling well enough to attend at the moment, but that I would be happy to attend the next event she was planning on hosting. I told her that I had been traveling and I my creatures needed me for the next few days.

Her letter back was kind and of course, she was looking forward to meeting me in person. I think that when she does invite me to her next event, I shall ask Albus to go with me. I think he is more likely to be of the type of person the countess is interested in becoming friends with.

Tina, I think I am ready to talk about the first part of your letter.

The last few weeks have been torture. That is the only way to describe it.

At first, when I did not hear from you, I thought that I had crossed a line. I didn't know if sending you a stuffed animal was foolish or immature. Then I didn't know if I over-stepped or misread our relationship when I asked you to be my valentine. I did think you were mad at me.

Then I had a moment of joy, a brief relief, when I saw the international delivery owl at my window. However that joy was short-lived. It was devastating to read Queenie's letter. I felt stupid, useless, and petty, all at once.

A side of me was upset that I was ever foolish enough to think you were actually mad at me about a stuff animal. There you were in the United States struggling to stay alive and I was pouting about a toy. At the same time I was distraught that I could do nothing. I wasn't there to help or assist. This terrible thing had happen, and I was completely and utterly useless. I also was deeply ashamed at the petty thoughts I had before I knew you were hurt. They were stupid thoughts, about how we weren't really friends and maybe our relationship was one-sided. It was childish of me to have such paltry thoughts, and I think it was a way of attempting to lick my own wounds.

Yet as I said, everything changed with Queenie's letter. I won't bore you with the details, but once that letter was in my hands, I knew I had to get to you. There was a new panic in me. What if you had passed away without me seeing you ever again? What if I could help? What if, with my knowledge of beasts, I could help and I didn't?

I asked Minster Tolipan for a portkey, which to my surprised, I was given. It was an exchange, a portkey for me attending publicity events for the Ministry. However, I'd wear my dress robes every day for the rest of my life if it meant that I got to see you one last time. With the portkey secured, I started to research what might have been effecting you, if it was a beast. I had a pretty good short list of creatures before I was told my portkey would activate at midnight.

Now I just needed someone to watch my new mooncalf pups. (There have been four born since my last letter to you.)Thankfully my friend, Professor Dumbledore stepped in to watch everyone for me. This is how he knew of your accident and why he sent you a care package.

Then I was off to America.

My visit was short. As you know. I dearly wish I could have stayed until you woke up, and I guess in a way, you did wake up while I was there. However, you thought I was Queenie. Which, of course, makes perfect sense given your state of delirium and her being your caretaker. I was so relieved that you spoke to me at all while I was there. Hearing your voice, seeing you talk, it was a great pressure off my mind.

I was so pleased that Queenie got some rest while I was there because, she looked… ah, how can I say this politely, unlike herself? She and I talked a bit while eating dinner. I told her about my theory about the dementor's breath. It was far-fetched, and it could have been completely off-base. The hot cocoa was a shot in the dark, and while I am glad it hit the mark, I can safely say I never want to play that odds game again. Especially if your life is on the table.

Dementors are known for sucking the happiness out of wherever they are. It's their kiss that is most dangerous as it will remove the soul from a person's body. Dementor's breath is, well, really impractical. It's a vapor that has to be bottled, heated and then distilled to get a minuscule amount of toxic liquid, which is a labor intensive process to be sure. Then the sheer amount of breath that has to be distilled to get any reasonable amount of fluid is astronomical. Especially when you think about the fact someone has to be close enough to a dementor to collect and bottle the breath.

Dementors are no treat to be around, trust me. In Britain, they are only found at Azkaban, the wizarding prison. However, that might be different in the Americas. Either way, it is safe to assume that dementor's breath isn't cheap and only found in black market trading rings. There really isn't a magical purpose to the solution. I am sure that it is used in a few very dark and very rare potions. I could ask Albus, I mean, Professor Dumbledore to do some research on it, if it would help you. He is currently doing some impressive work with dragon's blood. He has asked me for some assistance in his research, so I am sure he would be willing to repay the favor.

I have thought about this a lot. The dementor's breath, the killing curse, the whole attack is just so complicated. I think you and Mrs. Hendricks have probably come to a similar conclusion as I have, which is that, the dagger was never meant for you in the first place.

Why would someone cast a killing curse and expect it not to work? So they make sure to carry a dagger covered with a rare and expensive toxin around with them just in case? Obviously, when your shield charm activated (which I thank Merlin for everyday)and blocked most of the killing curse's impact, they had to scramble to come up with whatever plan they could to get you out of the way. I think it is likely that either your attacker knew the dagger was covered in toxin but it was meant for someone else and used it against you in desperation. Or they had no idea the dagger they were carrying around was coated in the distilled dementor's breath because they had no intention of using it. It is also possible they knew the dagger was cursed or had some type of dark magic on it, but had no idea what it was.

I have pondering this since I learned of your attacked. Why would someone use dementor's breath? What would the benefit be? In my last discussion with Albus he stated that dementor's breath doesn't have a very long shelf life. It is good for a week, maybe two at the most. So it must have been applied to the blade not too long before it was given to your attackers. Maybe several days or so at most. So it was also produced and sold not long before your attack either.

Then after I received your detailed letter, I am more and more positive that the knife was never meant for you. It was such a well-executed attack, and while I know you belittled yourself for not being more focused, it seems like even a completely focused, highly-skilled auror would have had issues discerning that the passage behind them was being blocked. Especially after seeing how hectic those muggle streets can be. Using a muggle firetruck to block a road, would take planning. How would someone guarantee a firetruck would be there? Of course, a stalled motor vehicle would not seem out of place to any New Yorker.

So who was the knife meant for? I have a feeling you will come to that conclusion much faster than I will.

As for your letter, I swear I will keep the contents to myself. If you consent to me asking for Albus Dumbledore's help, I might read to him the side effect of your letter. However, what you told me, is in my confidence. The fact that you trust me enough with this information is an honor. I am so thankful to have you in my life, and to have you healthy again. But that you also trust me and confide in me, is really more than I could expect. I have never really been close with many people. Which, you probably don't find too hard to believe. My only really close friend at Hogwarts ended up using my trust and friendship against me. Then with my quirky personality and my distaste for most human beings, I honestly never believed I would meet with someone to have such a relationship with. It warms my soul, knowing you are a part of my life.

Yet, back to the point, I have invested in a small lockbox which I keep all your letters in. I was inspire to get this box after I saw how you kept all my letters to you bundled together in your room. I have kept all your letter thus far in a, rather un-ceremonial pile on my desk.

I hope you don't find it too invasive that I sat in your bedroom with you, unaccompanied, while you were healing. I passed most of the evening reading to you from a draft of my book. I wonder if that is why you had that dream about the mooncalfs and niffler? Since I was reading those sections of the book to you while you slept. I read all the sections I wrote with you in mind. How I structured my information, how I phrased certain passages, were because of you, and your feedback.

I did drift off to sleep at one point, for which I am deeply ashamed. I could have caused you serious injury if I had still been asleep when my portkey activated. I knew it would be a long day traveling to see you from England and back in 12 hours but, it was careless. When I think about what I could have accidentally done to you, it gives me the collywobbles.

You were the reason I woke up. I am not sure how long you had been awake before you woke me. But, you were, indeed, petting my hair. I'm not sure how much you remember of our conversation, or any of it. However, I told you than, as I will tell you now, I am not and have not been mad at you for not writing me back. Worried? Yes. Concerned? Yes. Scared? Of course. However, anger is not a feeling I felt towards you. I was angry at other people. I was angry that I was the last to find out about your attack. I was upset that Billy intentionally delayed me from seeing you. I was devastate to know your progress had stopped. But angry at you? Never, not about this.

Another thing I said to you that night was that I will always come back to you, and that still holds true. Tina, I will always be there and come back for you. Even if you move on in your life, and you find yourself no longer needing or wanting me around. If you called, I would come.

Also, please do not burden yourself with trying to thank me or repay me for my kindness to you and Queenie. Please, in all honestly, do not thank me again. I would have done whatever I could to have helped. The portkey cost me nothing but a few ministry appearance that I would have to preform anyways. The money I left with your sister was from my early book sales and honestly, I feel like you earned that with how you helped me in November. As for taking the time to come and see you, that was honestly a relief for me.

There is another think I need to say, you are not a burden to me Tina. In you last letter you wrote " I don't want to become a hassle in your life. I wanted to be a person you could count on to make your life better, instead I made your life harder."

I need you to know how far from the truth what you wrote is. You are not a hassle and you do make my life better. You have given me so much, words care barely express it.

That is why leaving you was so hard. I was concerned I'd never see you, who means so much to me, alive again. Then Pickett wanted to stay. It was hard to leave you both, but I felt better knowing I was leaving my friend with you. I hope that he hasn't caused you too much trouble. I know you are not allowed to have "pets" in your apartment, even though you know I think Pickett is much more than a mere pet.

I am sure he will want to ride around in your coat once you start back at work, and I sincerely hope the two of you find each other's company rewarding.

Once I arrived back in England, I finished out my workday, which was the longest day of my life. I had already written about my meeting with the Minister, so I won't trouble you with that again. Then I went to Hogwarts to collected my case from Dumbledore. However, I feel asleep after supper at Hogwarts, and thankfully Albus took care of my creatures for one more night. I really truly needed the sleep.

Tina, my dearest friend, please know how grateful I am that you are better. I am looking forward to your next letter with such pleasure.

Now that the book is ready for publishing, it is a reminder that I shall get to see you again soon. On March 19th there is a going to be a party hosted a one of the book stores in Diagon Alley, which is London's magical community. It is party to publicize my book, and I do wish you could be there. My parents will be there, and of course, I invited my brother and Albus. However, if you were going to be there, that would make it all better.

I am planning to set sail in late May and arrive in early June to come see you. It takes about six days to cross the Atlantic on a steamer, and I should easily have enough money to buy a solo berth. It's important for me to have a solo room, since in many 3rd class breths, you share a room with several other people. It would be almost impossible to go take care of my creatures in a situation like that. Is there anything I should do with customs in regards to my case this time? I want my visit to New York to be as peaceful as possible. If you would send me a wand registration permit, I would happily fill it out in advance this time.

As for your invitation to stay with you and Queenie, I would be delighted too. If it isn't too forward. I would sleep in my case, which as you know, has a very comfortable place for me. I cannot think about turning down the offer of an American breakfast.

However, I hope you wouldn't find it too rude if I also stayed a night with Jacob. It is very forward of me to just invite myself to stay with him, when right now he doesn't even know I exist, however, if you and Queenie are getting closer to finding him every day than I have no doubt he'll be with us in June.

It might seem silly, but I might be more nervous about seeing you in June, than my book officially being released at the start of May. Acutally, I haven't told you this yet but, May 3rd is when my book will be in stores.

However, please don't buy a copy, I'll have a special one to give you.

My warmest affections and regards.

Always yours,

Newt

* * *

"Always Yours" Tina read aloud.

Queenie looked up from her own book, to watch her sister. Tina was rereading her letter from Newt. It was the third time she read it since she got it today.

Tina had been back to work for a full week now, and Queenie had noticed how quickly her sister tired. She was worried about her. Queenie wondered if she had gone back to work too early. Tina's body was still fighting off the dementor's breath.

It was only a slight reassurance that Tina spent most of her day sitting behind a desk, pretending to track magical trading post addresses, or something like that. However, she knew Tina was actually working a mission regarding Billy.

"Everything okay Teenie?" She asked innocently. She didn't want to probe her sister's mind when it came to Newt's letters. After she had spoken with Newt during his visit, she knew he was slowly working his way to tell her that he loved her.

When Newt did tell Tina, she didn't want to invade that privacy. Jacob had first told her that he loved her through the privacy of their minds. It was beautiful moment for Queenie and when Tina and Newt had that moment, she didn't want to tarnish it. It was meant to be between the two of them. While she enjoyed snooping in her sister's life, she could respect the need for privacy.

Tina looked up at Queenie and smiled softly, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

"I'm okay, and everything is fine." Tina stated sadly. "I just… I have so many mixed feelings about Newt's letter."

Queenie set down her book and moved to sit next to her sister. Tina's eyes watered a little bit.

"Queenie, I'm in love with Newt. I really, truly, am." Tears sprang to her eyes as she said this.

"Tina, that is wonderful. Newt is a great guy."

"It's just, this is my first time ever saying it out loud. It feels so much more real now. I love him."

Queenie smile at her sister, and Tina smiled back through the tears.

"He wrote me a long letter, about how worried and nervous he was about me being injured. He has been thinking about the case, and gave some really amazing insights. He wrote that he was jealous of Billy, and the time that he and I spent together." Tina pointed to parts of the letter to show Queenie.

Queenie read those bits quickly.

"That makes me think that he must like me too, even if he doesn't love me. He even wrote that he trusts no one else like he does me. That last person he was close to was at Hogwarts. Do you think that might have been Leta LaStrange? He has never really mentioned her before."

Queenie paused thoughtfully, before asking "Do you mind if I read the whole letter?"

Tina handed it over, and watched her sister's face as she read Newt's latest missive.

She was surprised to see that as Queenie read, her smile became wider and brighter. When she finished she raised her eyebrows in an excited expression.

"Teenie, I think he really likes you." A giggle burst out of her.

"Look, he doesn't even notice that his Miss. Easton is trying to flirt with him. He really was a nervous wreck when he got here, sweetie. I saw him, he looked terrible."

"Also he wrote" Queenie deepened her voice and read "'Another thing I said to you that night was that I will always come back to you, and that still holds true. Tina, I will always be there and come back for you. Even if you move on in your life, and you find yourself no longer needing or wanting me around. If you called, I would come.' That is pretty romantic coming from Newt Scamander."

Tina's face flushed and the two women tucked their heads together and poured over the letter.

Queenie was relieved that Tina's stress over the letter was so simple and pure. She was happy to be sharing this moment with her sister. The fact that Tina trusted her with her feelings was heartwarming. She knew that they would find Jacob soon, and now with Newt coming in June, she couldn't help but feel happiness for both herself and she sister.


	14. Chapter 13

Greetings readers! This story has been alive for over a year now and I am so proud of it and everyone who keeps reading. It means a lot to me. Thank you for sticking with me for a year, its been a magical one.

* * *

March 15th, 1927

Dearest Newt,

I am so glad you liked the pen. I saw an ad for it in the New York Ghost, which is the magical newspaper here, and thought it might be an excellent gift for a soon-to-be-esteemed author. Do you plan to write any more books now that your book is going to be released in just a few weeks? Or will ' _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ ' be your only book?

Newt, I have enjoyed all of the gifts you have sent me. I do not think you are deficient in gift giving at all. I love the fwooper feather. The stuffed niffler has been such a wonderful companion during my recovery and while it might just be your old school pin, Newt, it saved my life. Please do not underestimate that. The pin, however, is currently with the Auror team at MACUSA. They are trying to unravel the layers of spells on the pin in hopes of creating shields for the team that is watching Grindelwald.

The magic behind the pin is fascinating, because the researchers think that there are lingering spells on the pin from when you were a student at Hogwarts. Those spells might have augmented the strength of the spells you put on the pin. I am considering writing to your friend Dumbledore about that possibility. Would you mind if it did? He might know something about unrelated spells weaving together and becoming stronger. Additionally, if he doesn't know, he might know someone else that we can ask.

Honestly Newt, I cannot think of a single thing to ask for right now. I am healthy again, I have my job back, every day Queenie and I get closer to finding Jacob. There is a delightful bowtruckle living in a potted plant in my room and I have you in my life. I don't know what else I could need or want. I am so excited at the prospect of seeing you again, in only a few weeks. It is only about 11 weeks until the first week of June.

However, I do wish that I could be at your publicity party this weekend. I did check the rates for an international portkey and it is out of my budget. Well, it's out of my budget if Queenie and I want to have a roof over our heads, anyways. We are not in a bad way with money. That little extra you gave us during your visit has made a huge difference, and that was more generosity than we deserved. I will think of you this Saturday, and I know it will be a great time and you will do marvelously.

I cannot believe how much time has flown since November. Or how different my life is now. Again, all of it is thanks to you. If your niffler hadn't escaped, I might still be working in the wand permit office, dreading going to work every day and spending my lunches sneaking around watching the Second Salemers.

However, things are different now.

When I read your last, wonderfully long, letter I was so overwhelmed with feelings. I love getting letters from you, and I had missed your correspondence while I was healing. All the letters you have sent me in the past have been read over so many times that the creases are giving way from being opened and folded so many times. Queenie said that I might as well put them in an album, and maybe she is right.

As I said, you last letter had me dazed. Reading about how you thought I was upset with you, and your own struggles have made me feel like I treated you very poorly.

You coming to see me, sit with me, and allowing poor Queenie to rest, is a kindness that I cannot ever repay. I know in you last letter, you told me not to bring it up again, and I will honor your wish, but please know how deeply your actions have touched my heart. I feel so close to you, despite being so far away. I've never felt this way about another person before.

However, as you did ask me not to bring it up again, I feel like I should address the other items in your wonderful letter.

I think the first thing to talk about is probably the most complicated, which is the situation about the knife and the dementor's breathe.

Mrs. Hendricks and I both agree with you that the knife most likely wasn't meant for me. Most importantly, the investigations team researching the attack agrees with you.

I am not on the investigations unit team following up on my attacks. To tell you the truth Newt, I am thankful I don't have to relive the attacks every day. I am thankful I don't have to listen to interviews or sift through rubble. Almost every night I have nightmares. There are still physical ailments I am dealing with from the attacks. If I don't have chocolate three times a day, I get worn down.

It is wrong I'm thankful not to be involved? Or, more involved than I already am? Does that make me weak? Am I a terrible person for not wanting to come to the conclusions myself?

The points you raised about the killing curse, and the cost and rarity of the dementor's breath, not to mention that it happens to be on the knife used to stab me, all seem like too many ways to try to kill me. Murder typically isn't this convoluted. Typically we see crimes of passion, sloppy and hastily executed or well thought out hits. A well thought out hit never has this much conflicting evidence.

There is too much evidence pointing towards someone wanting to kill me. If the plan was to just kill me, why not stab me first? I mean stab me two or three times, since there was enough time for it. Or Why not fire two killing curses? There were multiple wizards and multiple wands, why only one spell? I am sorry this is such a gruesome thing to write about. I feel like I am no-maj detective in a way, it's a case of poisoning or shooting but why both? I do think it might be because Mrs. Hendricks is a big fan of No-Maj mystery novels and has let me borrow some. If you haven't read any Agatha Christie, you should. She is an English writer, just like you.

The case is still open and there are still a lot of questions to be answered. It turns out that the man who saved my life, the old Polish man, has disappeared. He might have been a smuggler, or just a simply wizard. However, Billy had been asking about him after my attack. I figured he was trying to paste together as many facts as he could alone, but maybe not.

The team assigned to investigate my attack has been tracking down dementor's breath producers. However, the informant networks has suddenly become silent, which, I think, means that someone knows something, and cast a gag spell on their gang. Have you ever heard of this before?

Magical gangs will uses these gag spells on their members to silence them on different subjects. It isn't an easy spell to cast, so it's not often used. It is typically cast through a common item. So if everyone has the same gang tattoo, or mob coin, or set of cuff links they all fall under the casting of the spell. I think that is the only thing that could make everyone so silence.

Gangsters love to talk, and that is where most of their trade comes from. Most of time we hear an whisper of things before they happen and echoing after they happen, but we have heard nothing about the dementor's breathe.

Of course, the attack has been talked about a lot. In both the New York Ghost and in the New York underground. Interestingly enough, several mobs families have come forward and expressly stated they were not a part of it the attack.

I even received a "summons" from Gnarlak. He sent a messenger with a request of meeting in Central Park at noon. Mrs. Hendricks kept Billy occupied with a side assignment, having him follow a "person of interest". (It was really just another member of the investigations team who had been practicing their disguise spells.) I left Pickett with Queenie the day of the meet up, as he typically like to come to work with me. However, I didn't think it was safe for Pickett to come along, he was really upset with me. I know you understand why.

Gnarlak was already sitting on a bench when I got there. Disillusionment charm had been cast on the section of the park we were in. His goons must have put them up before I got there. No one looked twice at us sitting on a bench, him smoking a cigar with his broken fingers and me, eating a hot dog.

He flat out told me that he wasn't behind the attack, and that despite what happened back in November he wouldn't come after me like that. I told him he was a real gentleman. I think he caught my sarcasm.

One thing he did say was that whoever put that hit out on me was a fool. Since according to Gnarlak I am one of the most famous Aurors around right now. I will admit, to you and you alone, this flattered me.

He suggested three possibilities. That either a new family was coming up in the ranks and wanted to make a name for themselves fast, by taking out a high ranking auror. Another option was the attack came from a non-New York family, because if it was a New York family, someone would have tried to take credit for it by now. Or three, I wasn't the intended target because no one would brag about a botched hit.

For course, I wasn't going to show my cards and let me know what I had already reached those conclusions. However, I told him that I was glad to know it wasn't him trying to kill me, since that would have put a real damper on our friendship.

He laughed and got up off the bench. He had a trench coat collar pulled up to cover as much of his face as possible.

"Goldstine, you are one of a kind. Thank god for that. I don't know what I would do if there were two of you. You are the most famous Auror, and I am the most infamous gangster in New York. We had a good thing going. I hope our issues in November can be looked past."

The he handed me a business card and started to walk away. "Stop by the Pig if you're feeling bold, and you have information to trade, we got a new location. Show the card at the door and you should get in, no questions asked."

He stopped and looked back at me. "That wizard who punched me, I like him. He's got spirit. If he needs work, send him my way."

"Well, Gnarlak. That is a compliment indeed. However, that guy was a No-Maj, and has no recollection of your meeting."

He paused, thinking to himself, before saying "A No-Maj eh? Well, that clears somethings up. Well, I like him more now. By the way, there is something you might like to see on the lower east side. Rivington Street. You'll know it when you see it."

Then he wander away. I could see three or four other people get off benches and follow him slowly, trying to look at discreet as possible. I just sat and finished my hotdog before heading back to the office.

The strange thing is, after being so close to death, I don't know if I am more reckless or braver than I was before. I knew, as it is any time meeting Gnarlak, you are a pigmy puff in a den of Nundus. I am normally nervous going into the Blind Pig, however, that day, I wasn't afraid at all.

I wish the meeting could have been more productive but it did confirm a few of my theories. I knew it wasn't a new crime family, because if my attack was a moment to show how powerful of a family you were, you'd be bragging about it.

I do think that it could possibly be a Non-New York crime family. We have had a lot of activity from Chicago and Detroit organizations in the city lately.

Then once again, the idea that I wasn't the target of the hit comes ups. But if I wasn't the target, who was? Could it have been the missing Polish wizard? If so, he might be in more danger now than before. I can barely remember his face, but he saved my life.

When I think back to that day, it seemed so, well planned out. The road being blocked, no-majs being funneled down the street into the line of fire. I still have nightmares about that day.

It's kind of funny, I had some nightmares after Grindelwald. Mainly nightmares about things happening to you. You did take the brunt of all the attacks. However, the nightmares I have from my attack are mainly about crying and screaming no-maj children. The ones that were caught in the crossfire. It's amazing how few people were actually hurt. In total, only six had been hit by any curses. They had been treated, and oblivated, but, those children, I can't forget.

Maybe it's because I remember being a child, scared and alone and wishing someone who protect me. Knowing no one was coming.

It seems almost impossible that I should have been the target, why do so much work for me? Other than the missing wizard, the only other person I think could have been a target was Billy.

As I told you in my last letter, Billy is on a new assignment at MACUSA. He is upset that we aren't assigned to a project together. He doesn't like working with Auror Johnston and he really hates working with dangerous manuscripts. However, I have been given a dull enough project title that even Billy shouldn't want to work on it.

Everyone in the office has been told that I am indexing magical businesses and locations across New York proper and updating our current functioning maps. I am also supposed to act like I get tired quickly and I should be seen resting as often as possible. Only a few people know what I am actually doing.

However, Billy still comes to see me every day at lunch. He tries to convince me to go to a local diner with him, or to get a coffee together on breaks. I decline almost all of his offers. I give him the excuse that I am too exhausted, or not feeling up to going out. I have gone to lunch with him once since coming back to work and all he wants to do is discuss the attack. He talks about it like an amazing battle. I know he is a kid in many ways but I had to tell him that I was almost killed and that I didn't like how he was talking about my attack. That shut him up.

When I refuse to go out with him, he then tries to insist on eating with me at my desk. I then remind him that he should be meeting and working with other aurors. He doesn't like this, but he accepts it begrudgingly. Mrs. Hendricks is working to keep him away from me as I work on his case.

So far, I have read up on all the MACUSA files on Billy, which isn't much. He home office is the Detroit Branch and he is here on a temporary training transfer, which is common. The only slightly strange thing is that he was issued a temporary transfer to New York, which was canceled about a week later. Then two weeks later he was reissued another temporary transfer to New York, and he left a day after the second transfer was approved. His file said the first transfer was canceled due to family reasons.

Auror Johnston is taking Billy on an overnight mission to visit the New Orleans branch. I guess there are several really dangerous dark voodoo texts that have made their way into a local library. While Billy and Johnston are working out away from headquarters I plan on going to the Detroit home office to look up more about Billy.

You know, Newt, there was never a reason to be jealous of Billy. The reason I spent so much time with him was because he was my assigned partner. He only ever had lunch with me, or the occasionally dinner with Queenie and I was because he told us he was lonely. Queenie admits that he always made her a bit uncomfortable because she has never been able to reach his mind. Queenie said it's like she has a shield around his mind.

You ask if I wrote your mother back, and I did. I mainly thanked her for the kind wishes for a speedy recovery. I also told her how much I liked the cookies. Do you know I have never seen a hippogriff in real life? I told her as much, and that I thought, based off her cookies, that they seemed liked beautiful creatures.

Which, in retrospect, might not be a compliment. I said I was looking forward to reading about them in your book. Finally, I thanked her for sending me a copy of your interview, with your book coming out soon, I have been reading all I can about it, but of course, a lot of stuff reported in England that isn't reported here.

I know you said your mom was disappointed in you. That she was let down by the fact that you didn't have a high ranking job at the ministry, that you were throw out of Hogwarts, but I don't know if that is true. She wrote about how proud she was of all the work you've done. She mentioned your work with dragon's during the war too. I was fascinated since we have never discussed what you did during the war.

Of course, I am an outsider in all of this, and I have never had the chance to have an adult relationship with my own mother, so I am not sure how they are supposed to work for other people. Sometimes I wonder if my mother would be proud of me or my dad would think my job is too dangerous. In the fall, I think about it the most. My parents died in October, so when the leaves start to change, I often find myself thinking about how they would have felt about things in Queenie's and my life.

Would they have approved of Queenie loving a No-Maj? What would have our birthdays been like if we had parents? Would it have been easier to work at MACUSA? Did you know my dad was an auror? He was the reason I wanted to be one too. He would come home telling these amazing stories. Being an Auror back then felt like being a cowboy in the wild west. He had tracked dark wizards across the United States.

Our parents met at a dinner party. Daddy said he saw momma from across the room and knew, right then and there that he needed to marry her. She was the most beautiful woman in the world. Momma looked more like Queenie, and I guess I look like daddy. I have pictures of them in a locket I wear around my neck.

I guess, in a roundabout way, I am saying it's possible you don't know what your mother thinks of your job. Or your creatures, or your hobbies. Unless you ask her, which you still have the ability to do. Maybe you two have more in common than you realize?

I think it was very commendable that your Prime Minster actually came to you to apologize for, what he feels, was a slight in judgment. How I wish things worked that way here at MACUSA. However, this year is an election year, and Madam Picquery is going to need to do some campaigning. She is not very popular right now.

Despite the fact that she keeps reminding people Grindelwald was caught under her command, he detractors also remind the public that Grindelwald was working close to her under the guise of Mr. Graves. Also, the magical world was exposed to everyone in New York, and if it wasn't for you and Frank, she would have had a major crisis on her hands. She is talking about setting up a sanctuary for Thunderbirds and making them a protected species.

She is also talking about how she asked you to keep American creatures out of your book. She implies that she did a lot of negotiating, and how she is taking a great step to better creature safety in the United State. However, I know you. I know it did not take a lot of negotiating. You will always do what is best for the magical creatures of the world and if that means keeping them from being published in a worldwide book, then you would do it without hesitation.

However, I do feel hesitant about the kind of censorship. Because you are not including those creatures in your book, how will people know how to protect themselves or those creatures from harm? Who is really being protected here? Madam Picquery's reputation, the general public or the fantastic beasts?

Excuse me, it is not my place to judge any decisions you make about your work. I am just your… friend. I should write about happier things.

For example, I am pleased that your office was assigned a part time worker. I think that your life will be a lot easier with someone handling part of your work load, even if she does talk too much. This Miss Easton sounds like a very interesting woman. Does she have an interest in Magical creatures or is she just working in your office temporarily?

It sounds like she might have a

* * *

Newt looked up from the letter. There was nothing else on that page. The pulled out his wand and cast a quick revelio spell to see if she had switched to invisible ink. Nothing. He flipped the paper over and curiously enough, saw more writing. The handwriting was sloppier on this side of the page.

* * *

Newt, she found him.

Queenie found Jacob.

I'm sorry about this break in the letter, she just came bursting into the flat. So I set down my quill, and we started talking, and the next thing I knew, it was already midnight and I had to put off finishing your letter till today.

When Queenie found Jacob it was Tuesday the 15th, and she had such great news. He has a bakery, and from what she told me, a very successful one. She said that she stood outside the bakery most of the afternoon watching customers come and go. At times there was even a line to go into the bakery. You will never guess where it is. It's on the lower east side, on Rivington Street, where Gnarlack said I would find something interesting.

However, despite the fact that she found him and his bakery on Tuesday, she didn't go in the shop. She said she was too nervous, which I understand. After not seeing the person you love after three, almost four, months it can't just be an easy thing to trot up to them and pretend like nothing happened. Especially when that person doesn't even remember you anymore.

To this day, I regret letting Jacob forget. I wish I would have said something to Madam Picquery. If only I could have done something. Helped Queenie and Jacob run away, anything. They could have gone to England with you. However, after writing that down, I realize now that sending them with you would have been a burden on you, since you would feel obligated to help them. They would be fugitives.

Yet, back to my actual story. Queenie did look into the windows of the shop, especially when Jacob was in the back, and he was least likely to see her peering in. You will never believe what I am about to tell you. Jacob has been making pastries in the shape of your fantastic beasts!

It is true, since I saw them myself the very next day. Jacob has been making tiny little baked nifflers, occamys, demiguises, and Erumpents. There are small cookies shaped like bowtruckles, owls and fairies. He has re-created these creatures out of his memories. I will send you a box of them with my next letter so you can see.

Queenie and I stayed up very late on Tuesday, discussing what would be the next plan of action. After a few cups of tea, we decided to go tomorrow to the bakery, after I was done with my shift.

On Wednesday, she met me in the MACUSA main lobby, and as we were leaving, Billy showed up and delayed us. He wanted to catch up with Queenie since he hadn't seen her since before I came back to work. It was very difficult to shake him off, he wanted to go where ever we were going. Queenie finally had to just look him square in the face and told him that what we were doing was personal, family business. I could see Billy start to frown and before he could protest, she apparated us out of MACUSA and into an alley not too far from Jacob's shop.

I resisted scolding her for using magic to taking us to no-maj alley in the middle of the day, but I could tell that she was shaken up. I think she was worried that Billy would follow us, and chances are, he probably would have if we walked. I haven't told her everything about Billy's case, but she knows he is being watched by MACUSA. If Billy is followed by MACUSA to Jacob's shop, it would only take an Auror a moment to recognize all those magical creatures in there, and then Jacob would have to be oblivated again.

It is already dangerous enough that Gnarlack knows about the bakery.

However, back to my story.

After a few minutes of standing in the alley and calming down, she asked me how she looked. Of course, she looked beautiful. There were some dark rings around her eyes, that weren't there when she first met Jacob. However, between her searching for him, and her dealing with the brunt of my recovery, she still looked lovely.

We never intended to apparate, so a few of her hairs were lose. I tucked down her curls, adjusted her hat, and whipped some imaginary dirt off her coat. She wore her new light pink dress, it was one she started to sew months ago for the spring weather. It looked beautiful against her pale skin, and she had cleaned her pink coat for the occasion. With those few touch ups, she took my hand, and led me to Jacob's shop. I could feel her shaking as we walked. My stomach was in knots for her. I focused on positive thoughts and hoped that would calm her.

We agreed that I would stay outside and watch the door, so the normally busy shop would have a few moments of silence. I hate to even admit this, but I did cast a forgetfullness charm on the sidewalk in front of the shop. So if anyone was walking towards the shop door, they suddenly remember something important that they had forgotten and rushed off to do it. That way, once the shop emptied out, not only would they have some privacy for personal reason, but on a more practical and dark turn, if Jacob did have a bunch of memories suddenly return, it was probably not best to do it in front of a bunch of no-majs. With how untested Swooping Evil venom is, I didn't want Jacob possibly losing him mind in front of a bunch of witnesses. Does this make me a terrible sister?

Either way, once the last person from the shop left, Queenie went in, I stood waiting outside. It was a beautiful early spring day. Just a little cold out. The road that Jacob's shop is on is pretty nice. There are lots other really successful stores, including a cutlery and hardware shop and a tailor. People were selling wears on the street too, eggs by the carton and apples. There were children running down the sidewalk and plenty of couples window shopping. Jacob even has a bakery car, to make deliveries, parked outside his shop.

The shop itself is a nice sized gray building, with yellow letters in the window spelling out "Kowalski Baked Goods". It's a clean looking shop from the outside. Almost too clean for New York, if you know what I mean. But of course, you probably don't know what I mean.

While standing there, I thought about how, at first, I was upset you gave Jacob those Occamy eggs. My anger was for such a selfish reason. I didn't want to tell you back than because I didn't want you to think poorly of me. However, I was afraid that if MACUSA found out you gave a no-maj a class C non-tradable good, you wouldn't be allowed back in the United States. Then I wouldn't get to see you again. I was really only thinking about me, when you were thinking about Jacob. Standing outside his beautiful bakery just reminded me of your kindness, not just to me and my sister, but to Jacob.

It was only about five minutes or so that Queenie was in the shop. When she came out, her cheeks were flushed and her smile was radiate. She also had a small bag of baked goods. I removed the forgetfulness charm from the store and we left.

She took my hands and we wandered back towards the alley we apparated into. She took us to Central Park, where we sat on a bench and ate our Bowtruckle shaped cookies, and she told me everything that happened inside.

In the shop, the walls are covered trays of baked goods. In the windows, you can see the different beautiful baked beasts on display. There is a display counter near the front where all the smaller baked goods and cookies are kept.

Queenie stood in the middle of the shop, near one of the bread shelves. Intending to looking at the breads, but she said that when she entered the store, she only had eyes for Jacob.

He looked happy. Really truly happy.

Queenie was nervous, she said that suddenly she doubted if she should in the shop at all. Then the bell in the store rung, when the last person left and he looked at her. She said he was dumb struck.

She told me that he thought "Wow, she is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." Which made her smile. According to Queenie, that is what he thought the very first time he saw her.

She was smiling as she moved closer to him. His brain started to search for her. He knew her from somewhere, but he couldn't figure out where.

He reached up, and touched the murtlap bite on the back of his neck, and he smiled at her. A small, mischievous, knowing smile.

However, Queenie said that while in his mind he was telling himself he knew her, he was still struggling with remembering why he knew her. However, he KNEW that he knew her. He remembered small things she said, he remembered her smile, but he couldn't place where she had smiled at him before. However, she could also tell that it gave him a sense of relief. That he said to himself, 'things ARE missing!' almost as if confirming the suspicion to himself.

She approached the counter and told him that she loved his bakery. That it really suited him, I can only imagine how radiate Queenie's smile must have been. Jacob is really proud of the place.

She ordered a few cookies from him, and while he was bagging them up for her, he said to her "I hate to be rude Miss, but I swear, I feel like we have met before. Is that possible?"

Queenie paid for the cookies and said "Of Course, Honey. You are one of us. I'm looking forward to bringing my sister in with me next time. I know she would be happy to see you again."

"Of..Of course" Jacob stammered back. "You are welcome whenever…Miss?"

"Queenie, you can call me Queenie, Mr. Kowalski."

Queenie said she was at the door at this point, and she turned back to smile at him and that his mind was working in overdrive to recall her. She told me later that she almost felt guilty, coming into his shop and messing with his head like that. He stood at the counter desperately trying to recall her, but also at the same time staring at her like he was miserable to see her go again. But he didn't understand why it was again.

"Please, call me Jacob." He squeaked out before Queenie smiled at him and left.

That was all today, after work.

Queenie and I decided that we will go back next week together. She said she wanted to give him some time to recall and work through his memories. She is positive that he reminded her, even if it was just a flicker. However, I am worried about this. The swooping Evil venom might has horrible side effects, or not. I guess that maybe, I am just worrying because I am scared of Queenie getting hurt.

Either way, in a week we will go back together. I will buy some baked goods to send back with your next letter. By the time you get this, chances are your book publicity party will be over.

I will be posting this letter very late, it's already almost midnight on the 16th. Only three days to your party, it probably won't be in your hands before, since it takes almost three days for mail to travel between countries. My intention was to have this letter to you before the party, to give you a boost of confidence. I know how nervous you can be about these things. However, know that I will be thinking about you and believing that you will do well. Everyone is going to that party to support you, everyone there believes in you. Like I believe in you.

I know everything will go smoothly.

I'm sorry about the state of this letter. I'm sorry about the delay, I just thought you would want to know as soon as possible about Jacob.

All the best and all my affection.

Warmest regards,

Your Tina

* * *

"Newton, it's just about time to leave. Are you ready?" a voice rang out from the living room of his small apartment.

"One moment Mother." He responded quickly, wiping a tear away from his eye. They had found Jacob! He had his bakery! He was baking… magical creatures? What in the world does he remember? Could he remember me?

The next moment, his mother, Helena Scamander, poked her gray-haired head into his bedroom. He was sitting at this desk, in his new dress robes, with no shoes on, holding a very thick letter in his hand. His face slightly flushed. He looked lost in thought.

She studied him for a moment, he had not looked over to see her standing in the door.

He was looking at a muggle photograph of a young woman, and his hands were shaking slightly.

She took a deep breath and knocked lightly on the open door. Newt started and stood up quickly.

'That is odd,' Helena thought. 'He doesn't tend to startle easily.'

"I am sorry to have startled you. Can I come in?"

"Ah, yes. Of course, Mother." Newt looked away from his mother, still holding the letter in his hands. Helena moved in a very prim and stately manner across the room, where she perched herself on the edge of Newt's bed. She turned towards the photograph on the desk.

In the back of his mind, his mother looked like a queen. Her grayed hair elaborately coiffed on the top of her head. She wore a dark purple velvet dress, decorated with purple beads, with long gloves that covered her hands. No doubt there was a purple velvet witches hat sitting in his living room, waiting to rest on her head like a crown for the evening.

"Is that Tina?" She asked softly.

Newt swallowed visibly and nodded. While he had talked to his mother more and more about Tina, she had not seen her image before. What if she didn't approve? Well, not that her opinion of Tina actually mattered to him, he told himself. It would just be easier if she liked her.

His mother reached for the photograph and looked at it for a while. Slowly studying the still face, and making note of the Hufflepuff pin on her collar.

"She is a very pretty young woman." His mother stated. "She also writes lovely letters. She sent one to me a few weeks ago, thanking me for the package. She wrote like an intelligent and thoughtful young woman, so her picture matches her personality. I quite like her."

She carefully put the picture back down on the desk, and took in the image of her son standing in front of her.

He looked very handsome in his new dress robes, she had purposely taken him shopping from them earlier in the week. She told him he needed more fashionable attire for such a big event. His other dress robes were the ones he got for his Hogwarts graduation that had sadly never happened.

He never told her why he did what he did to get himself expelled from Hogwarts. She knew what had happened from the letter she had received from the headmaster, not because her son had told her.

His old dress robes were out of fashion, which was true, but their real offense to her was greater. They reminded her of her own failures. More specifically her failures as Newt's mother. After she received that letter, she had yelled at him for hours and ignored him for days. Her own pride and vanity were hurt by his expulsion. She had never thought about how it might have hurt him to have his mother turn away from him. After he left Hogwarts, he moved back into the family home and started working at the Ministry. She pretended like he didn't live there, but that he was just visiting.

From that moment on, they were more like distant relatives, instead of mother and son. Even when he went to serve during the war, their connection was a cold and strained. It had been that way for years, only until recently. Only until Tina had entered his life. Since Christmas Helena had noticed a change in her son.

In February when he was so upset about her attack, he confided in her. It was the first she had heard of this young woman, the one who had fought Grindelwald with her son. It was the first time he had talked to her about anything important to him. He didn't even talk with her about his book, instead choosing to talk with Theseus about it instead. However, it was due to Tina that he opened up to her.

She truly was worried for the young woman after her attack. The care package she sent her was a dual purpose package. Part care package, part thank you package. Newt had mentioned that Tina and her sister were orphans, so she felt compelled to send homemade cookies. Tina really had written a truly wonderful letter back, and that had cemented the young woman in her high esteem.

Helena turned her attention on her son again. Who was still standing nervously in front of her.

"Please sit Newton, we still have plenty of time before we have to leave. Your father said that he would come here once he finished up the last of his work, and then we can all walk over together."

"Of course, I just need to get my boots on. I took care of all my creatures before changing." He looked down at his hands again, the letter was still there.

"Did you receive a letter from Tina? Is she doing well?"

"Ah, yes. She seems to be healing quite well. Ah, she has been working on a new case that is taking her to the Detroit office next week. There has been a lot of gang activity and black market trading lately and she is checking some of it out." Newt said quickly.

"Don't you worry about her? It sounds like a dangerous profession. I find myself worrying about her, and I barely know her."

"Actually" Newt paused, thinking about what Tina had written him. ' _It's possible you don't know what your mother thinks of your job. Or your creatures, or your hobbies. Unless you ask her, which you have the ability to do._ ' He took a deep breath.

"Actually, I worry about her every day. Ever since the attack, I've had nightmares about losing her." Newt wiped his face with his hand. "Which is silly, since I know she is a very capable witch. She held Grindelwald back in wand to wand combat." He chuckled slightly.

"If anything, without her, I wouldn't be alive."

He looked up at his mother. "I think I love her."

There, he said it. He had said it out loud to his mother. He felt emboldened, so he continued.

"If she'll have me, I am going to ask her to marry me."

"I don't think you could have chosen better. She sounds amazing." His mother said softly looking at her son.

"She really is. She sent me this letter to cheer me on and give me confidence about tonight. She always seems to know what to say." Newt turned towards Tina's picture.

"Tina gives the most considerate and generous gifts. She knitted me these socks, and gave me a self-indexing pen!"

His mother glanced down at his feet as he continued.

"Along with the other things she has sent for my creatures. She loves her sister, and would do anything for her happiness. Including helping her sister find the muggle whose memory was erased, despite the fact that in America Muggles and Witches are not legally allowed to marry or intermingle."

"Tina has so many good qualities." Newt looked down towards the floor. After a long moment of silence he continued, "I am worried that one day she is going to look at me, and realize I am nothing special."

Helena raised her eye brows, surprised at, not just what her son was saying, but that he was saying it to her.

"Now, Newton." She started firmly. "Don't be silly. You are a very special person. Yes, you are different than a lot of young men out there. But I think that might just be because you don't prattle on about your self-importance."

Newt looked at his mother, surprise evident on his face.

"You work very hard at your job, and have earned a solid reputation as a good employee. You have written a book about something you love, which is getting very good early release reviews. The fact that you found something you love to do, is in itself, amazing."

"Your brother, he has no idea what he wants to do with his life. He is older than you and still hasn't found thing or someone he cares about more than himself. He is floating around on his good looks and his reputation, but do you think he is happy?"

"Actually,…" Newt thought for a moment, before responding. "I thought he was happy, but now that you mention it. When he looks away from you, or when he thinks no one is around, he looks very cold."

"Yes, but you, you have something you love. More importantly, you have someone you love."

Newt's face flushed. It felt different having his mother repeat something back to him that he had just confessed.

"Newton." She, uncharacteristically took his hand in hers. "Loving someone is the greatest gift we have to give. Not everyone can love someone as deeply as you do. Do not be ashamed for that feeling." She patted him on the top of his hand.

"Now Newton, you should get your shoes on, I have a feeling that your father will be here any moment." They both stood.

Newt tucked Tina's letter into an inside pocket of his robe and then reached down and picked a handkerchief off the desk, which had a small earring pinned on it. After carefully tucking it into his pocket, he reached and picked up his boots, speaking as he moved.

"You know, mother, everyone calls me Newt."

She sighed. "If you would like, I will try to call you Newt. However, I love your full name. That is why I picked it."

"I thought dad picked it."

"No, I only let him THINK he picked it." She stated as waved a hand dismissively, starting towards the door.

Newt followed her out of the room, saying "Speaking of dad, I don't believe you ever told me how you met."

"HA!" His mother ejaculated. "Oh, this is a good story. I had just gotten out of Hogwarts…"


	15. Chapter 14

Greetings Readers,

Just wanted to let you know that we are looking at roughly 21 chapters total. My goal is to have everything done before The Crimes of Grindelwald comes out and none of my materials are even slightly cannon anymore.

Thanks for reading and sticking with me.

* * *

March 22nd, 1927

Dearest Tina,

I am so utterly happy to hear that you and Queenie have found Jacob, and that he has his bakery. Your letter gave me so much happiness that I felt stunned after I read it. Also please don't worry yourself about the format or hastiness of the writing. It was the most perfect letter.

I cannot get over my feeling of excitement regarding Jacob. Oh, how I wish I was there. I knew it. I just knew that he would be successful, if he was just given the chance. So he is baking items in the shape of magical creatures? That is very odd. Fascinating, really remarkable. What do they look like? What kind of details has he included? Did he make a swooping evil? Merlin's beard, this is amazing.

Obviously he must not have forgotten everything. This is astounding. I knew it was risky using an untested venom on suck a large scale, however, at the moment, I didn't know what else to do. In retrospect it was reckless, and I wonder how many other people might remember things in the back of their minds. I cannot help but wonder how the Shaw family is dealing with the death of the Senator.

It seems like a good idea to be cautious about revealing too much of the past to Jacob at once, I honestly don't know what would happen to him.

Your letter came in such good time because I was able to speak with Albus the evening of the part about Jacob's memories. Albus speculated that it is possible that Jacob retained some of his memories because of how much exposer he had… well, to us, I guess. It is possible that the venom is more effective on short term memories than long term memories. For example, Jacob remembers the creatures in my case, because they were one of the first things we did together once the murtlap was out of his system. It was also probably a pretty fantastical sight for a muggle.

This memory and his memory of the first time he met Queenie were probably committed to his long term memory before the venom was in his system.

Albus also suggested the murtlap bite might have effected how the swooping evil venom works too.

Another possibility is that Jacob thinks what he is remembering is a dream. Or that his brain has rewired those memories into what he believes are old dreams.

It is also possible that Jacob has a stronger mind than most people.

So you can see that I don't really have an answer for you and I am sorry about that.

I would suggest keeping a ear to the ground for any other individuals who might start having memories return. I am concerned that maybe it was too diluted, or possibly too strong? It was a last minute idea on some major damage control.

It is also disconcerting that Gnarlak knew of the bakery. I wonder if he had someone tip him off to it. There really needs to be some kind of protection over that place. It's dangerous, as I am sure you are completely aware.

Speaking of Gnarlak, I'm frankly surprised he wanted to have a meeting with you. I understand that you brush with death has made you bolder, but it has made me weaker. My stomach dropped to my feet when I read about your meeting with him. I will admit that it is very hard for me, worrying about you. I would never tell you to stop doing what you are doing. You love your work and I would never ask you to stop, but, is it wrong to admit that I am afraid. I really believe that if you worry you suffer twice, however, with you and your work it is hard.

I'm so sorry. I feel terrible guilty admitting to you that I am concerned about you. I know you are smart, strong, and talented and you can handle anything that comes your way.

Anyways, back to the point. I cannot wait to see what you will send me from Jacob's bakery.

My dear Tina, this was such a strange and interesting week for me.

There are parts of it which are so common and normal that is seem unremarkable but then there are bits and pieces, conversations and snippets that just seem so out of place. You've confided in me so honestly and open-heartedly about everything you've been through, and, I hope this is not presumptuous to ask, but would you mind if I sorted out my thoughts to you?

I have a feeling you will tell me that there is no need to ask, however, I have been a solitary person for so long that I just wanted to check with you. There were a lot of things that were strange about this week and, it feels good but rather scary to tell you. It seems childish to say its scary, but being vulnerable with people is scary for me.

When it comes to my creatures, I have no fear. I can handle just about every situation, even if that involves protecting myself with my traveling tea kettle. However, people, I can't predict. I don't feel confident with most people. I think that is partly why I wanted you at my book preview, because if you were there, I would have one person I felt comfortable and confident with.

So I guess, I should start actually explaining what happened rather then just continuing to ramble on.

As you know, Saturday the 19th was my book pre-release party at Flourish and Blott's, which is the largest magical book store in Diagon Alley. The party, I would say, was a success.

Your letter arrived two hours before the party started, and I was lucky enough to read your long and lovely letter before the evening started. You are too good to me. You ended your letter with everything I needed to feel assured about the evening. It was a great comfort to know you were out there in the world thinking of me, while my event was happening.

Albus came and brought is friend Nicolas Flamel, who is a famous alchemist and his wife Perenelle. We all met up at the end of the evening at the Leaky cauldron.

My parents both came, along with my brother. He brought a Miss. Hazel Cole with him, who I guess is a famous singer. I didn't want to mention that I had not heard of her, but since I spent most of the last two years out traveling the world, I do tend to miss out on some of the more popular treads.

Of course, I would like to think that my brother didn't mean to outshine me at my own event, but he did. It actually bothered me this time. In the past I was happy to share the publicity with him. I didn't want to attend the parties and ministry events, and when I was there he helped to draw the attention off me. I went to these events because I had too. However, that night was supposed to be about my work, and I did not appreciate it. There were quite a few reporters present, even a Mr. Landis who was writing for the New York Ghost. I gave him an extra detailed interview, knowing that his article would be the one you read.

The presence of Miss. Cole was not the only surprising presence. Leta Lestrange even made an appearance, with her family.

Actually, I am going about this all wrong. Let me start over. I want to start on Wednesday the 16th of March because that is where the the unpredictability starts.

Wednesday, my mother stopped by my office before lunch. Now, this isn't unheard of, but it is still not very common. Typically, she will send an owl before she shows up to make sure I am actually free for lunch. Yet on this day, she just showed up in my office at a quarter to noon, with her large gray wool coat with puffskine fur trimmed collar and cuffs.

For the record, I despise this coat. Puffskines are a harmless creature and should not be used in the trimming of hats and coats. I have told my mother this dozens of times, but this is her favorite, most fashionable coat. She swaps out her standard gray woolen coat for this monstrosity of outerwear when she wants to be seen. I should have known then that something was up.

Miss Easton, of course, was trying to convince my mother to stay in the office for lunch. She offered to get tea ready for the three of us. However, for some reason, my mother does not like Miss Easton. She doesn't say anything about not liking her, but I can tell. It is in the way she looks down her nose at her. Sometimes I think my mother should have been born a royal with how politely rude she can be.

Miss Easton is trying her hardest to win her over, but oddly enough that drives my mother away more. She even tried to talk to my mother about Hippogriffs, which is my mother favorite subject. However, oddly enough, my mother only wants to talk about you in front of Miss Easton.

'Newton' (she is the only one who calls me that, by the way) 'How is dear Miss. Goldstein? She sent me the most charming letter. I do hope she is recovering well. Amazing how brave these young aurors are.'

Normally my mother rarely talks about personal things. As I have said before, she is very English and very proper. For her, or at least, my understanding of her was that the most important things were her family pride and her Hippogriffs. So it was surprising to have her talk about you in front of someone else. This was the first thing that felt off about this week. I am really proud of you, and I do think you are amazingly brave. However, it kind of felt… gloating, the way my mother was saying it.

Miss Easton, of course, agreed with my mother and stated how she wished she could be as brave as you. However, she said that she was just "too delicate" for that type of lifestyle.

Oddly enough, this seemed to ruffle my mothers feathers and it was almost as if she got larger and more intimidating, or it was her large coat that made her appear that way.

Then my mother said to Miss Easton "I would rather admire a woman who regards herself as a noun and not an adjective."

My mother is very much like the hippogifts she breeds. She is polite, and if you are polite, you will be fine. However, if you are rude to her, you will most likely lose a limb. With that she turned on her heals and called "Come along Newton, we have plans."

I hastily grabbed my coat and glanced at Miss Easton as I left. This was another very strange moment in my week. She looked very angry.

Not wanting to be caught in the ire of either of them, I sped up to meet my mother.

Turns out, she made the trip to London, because she insisted on taking me shopping during my lunch hour.

She wanted to buy me a new dress robe before Saturday's party. I did tell her I was perfectly able to buy my own dress robes, but she stopped me and point blank asked me. "But Newton, WILL you buy a robe before Saturday?"

I honestly answered 'No' and reminded her I had a perfectly fine dress robe at home. She sniffed and said that everyone had already seen me in THAT dress robe. If I want to keep up our family reputation, I need a new one. With that she turned on her heels and that was the end of the conversation and we went shopping.

I do love my mother, honestly. However, I am 30 years old. I do not need my mother taking me to Madam Malkin's like I am a first year on his way to Hogwarts. It's embarrassing. I was embarrassed the first time my mother took me to get robes when I was 11. I was embarrassed when she took me there to get dress robes before the start of my 6th year at Hogwarts. Every time she made such a big deal about everything. The materials of the robes, the drape of the fabric, the lining of my cloak. Of course, all of this was in vain most of the time because all students are required to get a standard set of robes. However, dress robes were different. During my 6th year, we had a ball at Hogwarts, so my mother insisted on taking me shopping for robes of "quality" as she put it. When she had finally picked out my dress robes that last time, she looked at me and said "These robes should be perfect for your graduation."

Which, as you know, never came.

Actually, maybe my mother wanted to get me new dress robes because mine reminded her of the Hogwart's graduation that never happened. I had not thought of this before but since I was expelled, she has always disliked my dress robes. I thought it was because I wore my boots with them, or that they were slightly out of fashion, or both.

However, maybe there is a deeper reason. However, I am not sure. Tina, I don't know if I am reading too much into this.

The second we entered the shop, my mother shrugged my coat of me (and off-handedly remarked how heavy it was). I didn't want to tell her there were live mice in one of the pockets because I know she would have thrown in across the room and there are some very valuable life saving emergency potions in those pockets.

Yet, once I was freed of my coat, I was pretty much at the mercy of the shop assistant. The assistant tugged at my jumper, while a measuring tape was floating around taking measurements of my arms and legs.

My mother addressed the assistant as I stood there like a niffler who caught red handed stealing a jewel. I wasn't asked any questions about what I wanted to wear. It was rather belittling, and it felt like being 11 again. While I would not say I am the most fashionable bloke, I do know something about clothing. I have been dressing myself for years perfectly well. I finally got my chance to state that I preferred blues and earth tones, before my voice was lost to the chatter of dress robe finery.

Soon enough, my arms were loaded with several things to try on, while the shop assistant showed my mother several large and fashionable hats, also trimmed in puffskine fur to match her coat.

While I was in the back of the shop, wrangling different robes and tie combinations, and having my robes adjusted by a tailor. My mother "just happened" to run into Leta Lestrange's mother, Eudora Lestrange.

Now, my mother and Eudora were classmates at Hogwarts. They were in the same house, which was Slytherin. After school they lost touch for a while, Eudora married a man who was older than her. She was his third wife, and the one that lived the longest. There were lots of strange rumors about what happened to his first two wives. He wasn't very pleasant and he didn't keep the best company. His first wife died after Leta was born. His Second wife and child died together. His third wife had one child, Alexander.

It was a well known, but unspoken, understanding that my own father, A Hufflepuff, took a very strong dislike to Mr. Lestrange. So visits between the two friends after Hogwarts became few and far between.

When I came back from trying on my robes, (black robes with a navy silk vest and tie) my mother informed me that she invited the entire Lestrange family to Saturday's event. My mother knew Leta and I were friends back at Hogwarts, however, I never told her why we weren't friends anymore.

This was another moment in which things felt surreal. I actually thought for a moment, did someone jinx me? This can't be my life. You and I fought Grindelwald together and survived and that was more believable than my mother inviting hte Lestrange family to my book preview party.

I've never really talked about Leta with you. In one of your previous letters I believe if you asked me if the friend who had betrayed me was Leta Lestrange. I don't want to keep secrets from you, so I will tell you everything regarding my friendship with Leta Lestrange.

Leta and I became friends at Hogwarts. Of course, we had met once or twice as children, due to the occasional play date our mothers arranged. However, it wasn't until we were at Hogwarts when we became close.

We spent most of our days together. It started out as an unintentional friendships. Hufflepuffs and Slytherins had a fair few classes taught together. Leta got along with her classmates well enough. As did I, however I never had any really close friends in my house. People were nice enough to me, but as I said, I have always been…uncomfortable around most people. Most friendships I formed were due to need. I needed to be civil with the boys in my house, in my year, because we all bunked together in the basement at Hogwarts. We play quidditch together. One can't play gobstones or wizard's chess alone. However, I wasn't close with any of them.

Leta and I were often paired together during projects during our first two years. It is what happens when your house has an odd number of students and you aren't particularly close with any of them. Well, the same happened for Leta. She was also the odd one out. So we just started partnering up with each other instead of always searching for a partner in class. Being partners lead to studying together, and working on essays and assignments together.

We became even closer when we both opted to study Care of Magical Creatures in our third year and again at NEWT levels in our sixth year. We were both in the Magical Creatures club and we spent many afternoons searching the edge of the forest for Unicorn hairs and when the weather was warm, swimming around the lake looking for kelpies and grindylows.

It was the first semester of our 6th year, when things… became troublesome. Leta somehow acquired a jarvey over the summer holiday and decided to bring it back to Hogwarts with her. She had been…I guess the best way to describe it is torturing the little creature. Instead of simply transfiguring the poor thing (which you know is harmless) She was trying to see if she could genetically alter the jarvey.

Jarvey's are tiny, rather vulgar creatures, that look like a ferret. They talk, typically, but whatever she had done to the poor creature, had twisted it's little mind. It barely talked, it mainly growled. I tried to talk Leta out of keeping it, but I feared it was too… hurt to be returned to the wild. She was too proud to admit that she had done anything inhumane to the poor thing. Therefore she refused to put it down. She insisted that she could manage the creature. She insisted that I should trust her.

So against my better judgment, I did. I should have said something to someone about what was happening, but I didn't. I didn't want to lose Leta.

I don't know if it was an accident, or on purpose, but the jarvey got loose and attacked a fellow classmate. A very pretty and rather kind Gryffindor girl. Her name was Rebecca Smipkins, she was muggle born and her father ran a storefront in London selling shoes. We weren't close but we were both in ancient ruins and potions together and had been paired up a few times on projects. The jarvey scratched up her face, to the point it was unrecognizable and it has almost successfully removed her right eye before I was able to remove it from her face. I tried to stun the jarvey, but the spell had no effect. Whatever Leta did to the poor thing, I couldn't stop it with magic.

So, I killed it.

Tina, it was the first time I had ever killed a creature. It wasn't the last, but any time I have ever killed a creature was to put it out of suffering. However, I killed this jarvey out of fear and panic. It has been a burden I've carried with me since.

Leta just stood there, watching it all happened. It was horrible. Thankfully, several classmates were around. We got the nurse as fast as possible, and Rebecca was healed, at least physically. She asked to take some time off school, to be at home with her parents in muggle London. As you can imagine, her parents were furious. They thought they were sending their daughter to a safe place, of course, Headmaster Dippet approved her leave of absence. I never knew if she came back to Hogwarts, because if she did, I was already gone.

Her attack was practically my fault, since I knew she had brought the beast into the castle. I should have told the headmaster, or my head of house when I knew about it. Yet I didn't, because I didn't want to damage my friendship with Leta. For months, I carried a dangerous secret and that secret hurt more that just Leta.

When the jarvey got loose, I knew that Leta's family would not take kindly to what she had done. In the past, her interest in magical creatures had gotten her beaten by her father, more than once. She was his oldest, and she was to care on the honor of the family, and "play with monsters" as he called it, was not the way to do it. Actually, I am pretty sure her father would beat her for anything that let down his sense of family pride and magical bloodline. At Hogwart's she was safe, but during the summers I believe she became her father's punching bag.

Knowing that it was likely that her father would torture her, I took the blame for letting the creature into the castle. I never told anyone about what she did to the jarvey. I was then expelled from Hogwarts. I was almost of age, and the war hadn't begun yet, but it was bubbling to the surface. Professor Dumbledore vouched for me in front of the school commissioners. He stated that while it was wrong to know the creature was in the castle, he also reminded them that I had enough to sense to stop the creature by any means necessary. He said it was only because of my quick thinking that Rebecca Smipkins survived. Somehow, Dumbledore knew the truth about what happened. He asked me why I wouldn't tell the truth, but I couldn't tell him. So he did what he could for me.

However, I was going to be expelled no matter what. It was said that if I volunteered to serve in the war, I would be allowed to keep my wand and after a full tour of service, my record would be ex-sponged, and I would be allowed to retain my rights as trained, of-age, wand carrying wizard. However, I had to volunteer to serve in an a highly dangerous and experimental unit, the Ironbelly unit. My work with dragons is a story for another day.

After I was expelled, I never heard from her again. Leta, I mean. I heard from Rebecca. She sent me a letter from her parent's home in muggle London. She wrote to me that she knew the truth that it was Leta's creature, but that I must have had my reasons for protecting her. She said that she felt she owed her life to me, and she'd keep my secret, even thought she didn't understand why I would protect such a person. She did not think it was an accident the jarvey attacked her and that Leta had a strong dislike for her since we started at school together.

The letter from Rebecca was a nice reminder that I did what I needed to save someone life. I kept it with me during my time with the Ironbelly unit, mainly because I needed it to remind myself I did the right thing. There were times during the war when I needed to be reminded that sometimes things that seems wrong and horrible, were needed to save lives.

However, it didn't always feel like the right thing, especially since I didn't hear from Leta at all.

At first, I thought her family wasn't allowing her to speak to me. While on the on Eastern Front during the war, I hoped for a letter, but one never came. Two years after she had graduated, I heard that her father had died, and a side of me hoped that I would hear from her again. I sent her a letter, including my condolences regarding her father. She never wrote back. As the years went on, it became apparent that she decided not to speak to me of her own accord.

I think the worst moment was about five years ago. We saw each other in public, and when I went over to speak to her, she turned her back on me, as if she didn't know me. After a stunned moment I walked away, but I could hear her whispering to her friends that she didn't know who I was. It really hurt.

For her to ACTUALLY forget me, she would have needed a very strong oblivation spell. We were together almost everyday for the six years we were at Hogwarts together.

However, that is all in the past now. I don't really think of her often. When I do, it's often a sad experience, because she was my only real friend for many many years. Tina, that is the faithful narrative of my dealings with Leta Lestrange.

So to know that my mother had invited the whole Lestrange family to my book pre-release was a bit upsetting. It stirred up all these feelings in me I didn't understand. It kind of felt like my mother had betrayed me.

Yet I didn't expect them to show up. I really figured my mother was just happy to have a reason to show off her younger son. Of course, my parents never knew the truth of WHY I was expelled from Hogwarts. I never told them I was covering up for Leta. I never complained about my service in the war, because I knew, it could have been much worse. Not just for me, but also for Rebecca.

My mother and I parted ways after my new robes had been selected. They would be ready for me to pick up the next day. My mother did buy a new hat, much to my dismay.

When I got to work on Thursday, Miss. Easton had already arrived. Typically she arrives after me, since she only working a part-time shift. However, she was there with cinnamon raisins muffins for me. I had already had breakfast, so I declined the offered. However she insisted that I take a few with me. I didn't have the heart to tell her I loath raisins, so I took one and decided to pitch it in the bin when she left.

She inquired after my mother, and how shopping went. She wanted to know what my robes were going to look like an what color vest I was planning on wearing. Then she asked me about my book release party. I think she was hoping for an invitation. However, I didn't tell her that I thought it was open to the public. Maybe that was rude of me, but I thought if she came to the party she would just pester my mother all evening. She does have a strange obsession with my mother. She spent longer in my office than normal, which is saying a lot since she does tend to interrupt and stay for a while. She talked about the newest song by the singer Hazel Cole, and I tuned her out. I was thinking about Jacob actually. The muffins had made me think of a bakery.

When she finally left, I realized that I was about to be late for a meeting with Magical Law Enforcement and the department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. Every month our three offices get together and discuss what trends we have been seeing. While some people feel these meetings are pointless, two years ago we discovered an underground trading ring of erumpant horns. The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes was having a strange streak of exploding homes, with no rhyme or reason behind it. At the same time the department of Magical Law Enforcement had received some communication about an underground trading ring of some dangerous substance. It was only dumb luck that I happened to be talking with William Weasley, who is a wizard who works in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, about the case when I recognized what was exploding.

From that point on, we have had our meeting monthly. After discussing a string of ashwinder fires (which had nothing to do with any crime or illegal activities), William Weasley and I went to lunch at The Leaky Cauldron. That is a tavern in Diagon Alley. We were going to meet the new owner, Tom and try out his fare. I had the Steak and kidney pie, and it was delicious.

Tom inherited The Leaky Cauldrons from his uncle, and I think it has been the longest running establishment in Diagon Alley. It is definitely a stop I will take you to when you come to London, I mean, if you ever come to London. Just about everyone comes through The Leaky Cauldron, from the famous to the infamous.

While eating, I mentioned to Weasley that our office had recently gotten a part time working.

He already knew about Miss. Easton. It appears he knew her oldest brother Marcus Easton, I guess they were friends at Hogwarts.

Weasley laughed and told me to watch out because Ms. Easton was out to earn her M-R-S. When I asked him what kind of certification that was, he laughed so hard he spilled his drink all over the table. He then slapped me on the back and said "On that's a good one Scamander". I laughed with him (since that seemed like the right thing to do) and we finished our lunch amiably. I invited Weasley to my book preview party, and he said he would happily be there if he could find a sitter for his kids. He has three children already and his wife is pregnant with their fourth. He told me he wants to have seven children!

Either way, in regards to the Miss Easton comment, I still have no idea what is was talking about. I assume he was talking about Muggle Relation Services, which is a part of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes at the Ministry, but if she was perusing Muggle studies, then why bother being in the beast division?

Anyways, I have been meaning to ask you about it. Honestly, I pretty much forgot about the whole interaction.

When I came back from lunch Miss Easton was waiting for me, with a cup of tea, and another muffin. Which I turned down again. She really is an insistent sort. For some reason the more she insists I should do something, the more resolved I become in NOT doing that thing. I am sure that is very pigheaded of me, but there is just something about way she keeps forcing me to do things.

At the end of the day, I had binned the three muffins Miss Easton had passed off to me. When I got home I sent a letter off to Albus and requested that, if he had time, to stop by for my book preview party. Then if he had time afterwords, to to me for a glass of brandy at the Leaky Cauldron.

Friday, by all accounts was unremarkable. I had picked up my dress robes and hung them out like my mother insisted I do. Even though the sale's witch guaranteed they wouldn't wrinkle. I worked on my remarks for the party on Saturday and then spent the evening mucking out the stalls in my case. I really do live an exciting life, I spend my Friday nights collecting dung. Either way.

On Saturday, I awoke after a terrible night's sleep. I was drenched in sweat and kept having nightmares the Grindelwald was standing in the audience laughing at me during my speech. Yes, I have to give a speech for the event which is enough to give a grown man nightmares.

However, Grindelwald being in the mix made it so much worse.

After I got myself out of bed, I spent a good amount of time taking care of the creatures in my case. I had a small bite toast and tea for lunch before getting ready for the preview party.

Then I got a great surprise. Your letter arrived!

I got the chance to sit down and read your letter through properly before my mother showed up.

She arrived around 5:30 to see how I was doing. The party didn't officially start until 7pm and I wasn't planning on arriving until 6:30. So why my mother arrived so early I wasn't sure why.

However, it was a pleasant visit. I took the advice from your letter and talked to my mother about …things. We discussed my career and how pleased my mother is with it. She said she had received a letter from you too.

I also got a chance to ask my mother how she and my father met. It turns out they met each other when my mom was fresh out of Hogwarts. My dad had been out of school for about four years, and their families had mutual friends. They had met a quidditch competition. At first, my mother thought my father was stuck up, she had tried to talked to him during the match, but he didn't say much. Well, it turns out he was so nervous because he thought my mother was so beautiful. He was afraid to say something stupid.

The next time they met, it was at a ball. My father had asked my mother to dance and she almost said no, but one of her friends dared her too, she said yes, and that is how my parents met.

I arrived at about 6:30 pm for the party. I had worn my new dress robes, however, I was wearing my boots (which I polished) and the socks you knitted me. I also had pinned your earring to my handkerchief. So I could always reach into my pocket and rub it I got nervous.

Ah, actually, now that I think about it, I don't think I ever told you this. But, in your first letter to me, you sent an earring. It was for my niffler, but…I never gave it to him. It is embarrassing to write, but I have been holding on to it, like a good luck charm. I'm sorry for not telling you the truth, however, it is a bit embarrassing to admit.

The party started off slowly, as everyone anticipated it would. It was agony, waiting for people to arrive. I felt like the turn out would be a predictor of my books success. At seven sharp there were about a dozen people milling around, and two of them were my parents. The rest were reporters. However by 8pm the store was getting quite crowded.

I gave a short little speech about how much support I had received from my work, publishers, family and friends. I did specifically cite you too. However, as I was about to invite guests to listen to a reading of my book, my brother entered the shop with the famous singer, Miss Hazel Cole, on his arm. He tried to look embarrassed about the bad timing, however the camera bulbs were flashing in their direction.

After the hubbub settled down, I did have a chance to read a few pages from my book and people seemed relatively interested in the content. However, many people had their attention turned to towards the newest couple in the crowd. Miss Cole and my brother had chosen seats in the back and it was very distracting how many heads wiped around to stare at them.

Once the reading was over, the volume returned back to the shop and I was able to, gratefully disappear from the spotlight for a few minutes. My editors Mr. King was extremely conflicted about Miss Cole's appearance. On one had, all publicity is good publicity, however, that attention wasn't on the book. About a half hour after my brother's appearance, once they had finished several interviews, the pair sauntered over and I was introduced to the famous Miss. Hazel Cole.

She is American, and looks quiet a bit like your sister, however, she has none of the natural beauty of your sister, and she definitely isn't as beautiful as you.

Her hair is bleached blond, and she wears it similar style to Queenie. She was actually a rather funny woman to talk to. She is from New York too and we chatted about the events last November together. She said that the whole thing inspired a song she sang, called "My heart weeps with the Thunderbird." I don't think it is a great title, because as you know, the thunderbird doesn't weep but it creates storms as it flies. However, I said nothing. She did have the decency to apologize for the poor timing of her entrance. However, my brother was distracted during most of our conversation, his eyes kept searching the room.

Miss Cole confided that she was in England to hide from the fall-out of her disastrous first marriage. I guess he was a millionaire in the broom stick market but made some flimsy investments with both of their money and he was arrested for embezzlement. She had severed him with divorce papers and left the country. I do feel bad for her. She seems like a very spirited young woman. One thing she did ask was if I would be so kind to introduce her to my publishing editor. I guess she is an aspiring writer and has written a series of novels about a young witch who solves crimes in New York.

I suggested she meet with you to discuss what an investigator in New York actually does and she seemed very excited at the opportunity to meet you. I hope you don't mind that I made that connection for you. If I overstepped my bounds, please let me know. I guess as she was describing a smart young woman who used her sense and wit to solve crimes in the city, I couldn't help think about you. Please let me know if I was too forward.

Since she was such a pleasant young woman, I did make the introduction to my editor Mr. King. He seemed interested enough and was especially thankful she apologized to him for their rude entrance. She said that she had told all the press people how she was in New York last November and that her interest in my book had come from it. He seemed pleased that she talked up my book and I left the two of them to a conversation about the ins and outs of book writing.

It was close to nine thirty when The Lestranges arrived and, frankly I didn't even notice until my mother pulled me away from a very insightful conversation with Bathilda Bagshot about the history of creature and wizard interactions. I had consulted with Bathilda during the writing of my book, but it had been all through letters. So it was great to converse in person.

The Lestrange family party consisted of Eudora, her son, Alexander, his wife Constance and Leta. After making a reserved greeting to all of them, I stood politely next to my mother as she steered the conversation like a professional rider might fly a Hippogriff. She and Eudora chatted about everything polite society would talk about, from the company and Miss Cole right down to the food selection that my publishing house selected. (Eudora complained that the salmon tasted like chalk, and felt like they should have served chocolate mousse mice instead as it was the more fashionable dish and would have fit the theme of the evening better.)

I made it a point to look at either my mother or Eudora and appear completely indifferent to Leta, who looked around the room casually as the party chatted. At one point during their conversation she did congratulate me on my book. I thanked her politely and turned my interested back to our mothers. Eventually, I saw that Albus had arrived and I excused myself from their company. As I left their party, my brother joined them.

Seeing Leta was not alarming, which I thought it might be. There has been very little change in her and I honestly felt nothing towards her. Seeing her reminded me only of how wonderful my life has become since Hogwarts.

I went over and joined Albus and his friends Nicolas and Perenelle.

However, the most alarming part of the evening was how much time Leta Lestrange spent with my older brother Theseus. For the remainder of the evening the pair seemed almost inseparable. I was concerned for a moment about Miss. Cole, hoping that she wouldn't be offended by my brother indifference. Miss Cole did not seemed bothered the least by his inattentions. She was too busy talking to my publisher.

Eventually Albus, Nicolas and Perenelle left, and I promised to meet them at the Leaky Cauldron after the event had ended. There was only about an hour left and I was ready to go.

My father came to stand next to me and sighed. I turned my gaze to my father and I saw him watching my brother and Leta.

"I never liked that family." He said quietly. If you were going to use a word to describe my father it would be stoic. He works at Gringotts, which is the main wizarding back in London. It's goblin run. My father works in acquisitions and connections, which essentially means that if some people are too nervous to bank with goblins, he runs their transactions. My father is…. So it was a shock to hear him express a sentiment like that.

I guess my shock could read on my face.

"I never like how Mr. Lestrange treated his only daughter."

Then my father looked me right in the eyes and said "And I never liked how his daughter treated you."

I think my eyes brows must have shot into my hair line.

"Newt, just because I am an old man, doesn't mean I am a fool. The worst part of all of this is, your mother is trying to set your brother up with miss Leta Lestrange."

I looked back that the small group. My mother did look exceedingly pleased. Once I looked back at my father he said "I know you are well over that tart, but I just didn't want to be shocked when you found out."

"You're brother is an indolent man and I will say that I am concerned about some of his leanings politically." My father said darkly. "Eventually, he will no longer be the young, handsome war-hero. Yes, he is an auror but he spends money as quickly as he acquires it. I think he had banking on what will be left in the estate after your mother and I pass on."

"He will get the house, of course, but there is little fortune there. Of course, a portion of the estate will go to you, once your mother and I pass away. If your brother attempts to sell the family estate, it magically default into your ownership. Your brother won't be able to contest it either, as I have worked with all the best goblins at Gringotts to make it impossible"

"Do you really believe this is the appropriate place to discuss all this?"

My father turned his gaze back towards my brother and continued. "Is there ever an appropriate time to do anything Newt? I am not concerned about you. You have made something of your life, as little as I liked of it originally. Your taste in woman has seemed to improve too."

I could feel my face flush, yet he continued on.

"To keep up his lifestyle, your brother will need to marry a very rich wife. He is nearly 35, and the beautiful, young, rich wife pool is shrinking around him. Other young handsome upstarts are entering the scene. I think your new found fame has your brother nervous."

"Why would you say that?"

"Because suddenly, Theseus the war hero and auror, is up staged by his younger brother, who captured Grindelwald and is publishing an expected best seller. The newspapers write about Newt Scamander, or the Scamander brothers, but there are less and less articles about your brother. I think it is bothering him"

Frankly I was shocked in to silence.

"Why do you think he comes to all the same events as you?"

"Because he was trying to help me out?"

"Why do you think he brought one of the most popular singers right now, who is easily 10 years his Junior, to your book preview?"

"Because she is an aspiring author?"

"I think you should take some time to really think about that Newt."

My father looked back at me skeptically, before patting roughly on the shoulder and stalking off to get another whiskey.

This interaction with my father was by far the oddest interaction of the whole week.

Even when Miss Hazel Cole punched out a reporter twenty minutes later, I was still more fluxoed by my father than anything else.

I don't know why, but for some reason, I really want to believe the best of my brother. It meant so much to me that he was willing to support me at so many different events.

However, on greater inspection, I can also see what my father means. There is never a party I go to where my brother is not. Maybe he did bring Miss Cole to upstage me at my own party.

Maybe I have been envious of your relationship with your sister and was hoping that my relationship with my brother could become more like that. Yet, I really felt like Jacob was more of a brother to me than my own brother and we only knew each other for a few days.

If Theseus does end up marrying Leta, it would make holidays very uncomfortable for me. I am not in love with Leta anymore. I don't think I ever truly was in move with her, I think that I twisted the feelings of friendship and need into the idea of love.

Now I look back and see that Leta was, well, she wasn't a good person. She took from a lot of people. She took from me, she took from our classmates, and now… is she trying to take from my brother too?

Do you think I should tell him? I mean do you think I should tell Theseus about why I was expelled? Do you think I should tell my parents? You are the only one who knows, besides Leta and well, your sister. Would it seem petty and childish to tell them now?

I cannot imagine having her in our family, having Christmas with my parents. Sitting in our dining room. If she married my brother, someday our family home would be hers.

However, I am reminded families change all the time. One day I might be married with my own family and instead of spending the holidays with my parents at Scamander lodge, I'd be in my own home.

Tina, what do you think? Right now I would value your opinion more than any others about this situation.

The party wrapped up pretty quickly after Miss Cole punched out a reporter. I guess he asked her some very inappropriate question about her divorce and instead of drawing her wand, she punched him out cold. Made me miss Jacob, really.

She left shortly after. She did made front page news, and it was a bit of a disappointment that the papers the following day couldn't report on the party without reporting about her. I am trying not to let it get me down.

I then met up Albus and his friends at the Leaky Cauldron as planned. We stayed out far too late discussing the different uses of dragon's blood. That is one of the areas of research Albus is currently undertaking. He has also recently been named the newest editor of Transfiguration Today. I am not sure where the man finds the time to teach full time, research and edit. I swear he must have time turner somewhere.

Now that I have given a pretty complete summary of the party, I will happily turn my attentions back to you and let you know how ardently I wished you had been there with me. I felt braver with your letter in my pocket, but I wish it could have been you. Maybe, if you wouldn't mind, accompanying me on a couple book signing and publicity events I will most likely have to attend while I am in New York? I know it is probably really rude of me to ask you in this manner but… I hope you will consider.

I have been thinking about your journey to Detroit with apprehension. I am concerned about you, about your safety. I know you will be in Detroit for only a few hours, maybe two days tops, and I know you will be in a MACUSA headquarters. I don't know what is wrong with me. The more distance between us the more anxious I become, which is ridiculous, since there is nothing I can do anyways from England. Just… be safe? I know you will.

Tina there is something you brought up in your last letter that I felt was important to address with you. You wrote that you felt that it was wrong that President Picquery asked me to censor my book, which I did. I have thought long and hard about what you wrote. The truth is, I have been conflicted about this too. A side of me knows that editing the content of the book at Madam Picquery's request is wrong. There will be people looking for advice on those creatures and they will not be able to look in my book for them.

However, I am also concerned about Frank, the Thunderbird and other American based creatures that might be hunted because of my escapades in New York this last November. Magizoology is not a popular field and magical creatures and often not taken seriously. However, I suddenly drew attention to a breed of creature that I swore to protect and I am concerned about poachers and traffickers using my book against me. It was a very dangerous plan to sneak Frank back into the United States and I would do it again if I had too. However, I don't want to have to do it again because someone got the bright idea from me and my book to go steal a magical creature.

Does this make sense?

I do what you to know that I agree with you wholeheartedly that censoring my book isn't the best thing, but I also don't know what the other options are. I hope you'll forgive me and understand why I did what I did.

In your last letter you asked if it was wrong to not what to not want to be involved in the investigation behind your attacks. You asked if it made you weak not wanting to find the answers yourself. First and foremost, no, it is not wrong and it does not make you weak. You were attacked only about a month ago, you are were bed ridden most of that time. You've barely begun processing what happened to you. It is completely normal to need time and space from what happened to you.

However, it is important to know the difference between space and avoiding something. Space is healthy, avoidance is not. When you are processing everything, it will be important to talk about it. With me. With Queenie. With Pickett. Locking those feelings away and keeping them to yourself won't make the easier to handle or make them go away. You always have me to talk to and write with.

Tina, there is one last thing I'd like to address, it was regarding something you wrote in your last letter. You wondered if your parents would be proud of you. I can safely say, dear Tina, that they would be. You are an amazing woman, a great auror and a beautiful person. It seems so unfair that you would lose your parents so young, and I have really taken to heart what you said about them. It makes me want to value my time with my loved ones. It inspires me to trust in my family more, even if my brother and I are not close.

Tina, you should be proud of everything you've accomplished and done in your young lifetime.

I know I am proud of you.

Greatest Affections,

Newt

* * *

"Did you get a letter from Newt?" Queenie asked as she came into their apartment closing the door behind her. Her arms were filled with groceries.

Tina nodded. Slowly getting up to help her sister put away her purchases.

"Does it example why Hazel Cole was at this book party and why she punched that reporter? I can't believe that it was all over the newspaper." Queenie asked as she put away a fresh bag of flour.

"Actually, it does." Tina said over her shoulder, as she put the milk inside the refrigerator. "I think it actually hurt Newt's feelings that he was upstaged at his party by the woman who came to the party with his brother."

"Queenie?" Tina said slowly, as she turned to face her sister. "Did Newt ever tell you about what happened with Leta?" She asked softly.

"No." Queenie shook her head. "I asked him about the woman in the picture, and all I got was the feeling of betrayal, I knew that he had taken the blame for something she had done. I knew that it never sat right with Newt afterwords. Why? Did he tell you about it?"

Tina nodded, handing her sister the letter. "I don't know what to think about it. He gave up so much for her."

"You know, I thought I was going to be jealous when I finally knew everything about Leta. I thought that I was going to feel insecure and bad about myself. I mean, she is rich! She has a famous family. She is what a lot of women want to be! But instead, all I am is angry. Furious, even!"

" I can't believe such a selfish woman exists! I can't believe she took so much from him. She was the reason he didn't finish at Hogwarts. She was the reason he had to serve in the war!"

"No Teenie." Queenie said softly as she was scanning the letter. "Newt choose to take the blame for her. Newt choose to go to war. It's all in his letter. He says so right here." She pointed to a long paragraph in Newt's letter.

"Teenie, she didn't make Newt do those things. He did them for her, and she… and she just took. This is Newt's past. These events made him who he is."

Tina threw herself in her chair, feeling defeated.

"And I love who Newt is." Frustration evident in her voice. "I know he needed those things to be the man I love. But she hurt him!"

She looked up at her sister smiling at her secretively.

"What? What are you looking at me like that?" Tina shot cautiously to her sister.

" _So_ , you love him? I think that is the first time you said it out-loud."

Tina's face flushed, she couldn't handle the smile her sister was giving her, so she stood up to make some tea.

Queenie went back to reading Newt's letter as Tina got their tea things ready.

"Well, it seems like you will have to forgive Leta at some point…since you might become sister-in-laws." Queenie said slyly.

Tina spun around and gapped at her sister. She grabbed a kitchen towel and threw it at her sister from across the room.

"Queenie! You are so… so… presumptuous." Tina trying to hide her smile with indignation.

"Well, as long as I get to be your bridesmaid, you can call me anything you want."

Shrieks of laughter and giggles filled the air.

Downstairs Mrs. Esposito shook her head with a sigh and a small smile at sound of laughter echoing through the building.


End file.
